Daughter of the Fellowship
by Lightnin Spark
Summary: Before Gandalf, peeking out of the snow was a very pale and slender hand. The rest of the person seemed to be buried deep underneath the blanket of white."Um…pardon me,"Sam offered quietly, his face clearly flushing. "S-shouldn't we help the poor fellow?"
1. Chapter 1 Maiden in the Snow

**Full Summary****: After finding a close to death elf upon the pass to Caradhras, the story of Lord of the Rings as we know it, is completely turned around. New threats begin to arise with the appearance of a foreign and deadly weapon. Danger grows with every step the Fellowship takes, as they find that they are now part of a different battle. So with the tale changed, the true question now lies; will Frodo destroy the ring? Read on to find out! **

**Author's Note: Hiya! I'm Lightnin Spark, commonly reffered to as Spark. Just a FYI, I released a poem about Frodo's dark journey recently (as of 11/17/11) and if you want to check it out, go to my bio! Thanks!**

**Warning****: P********lease approach this story with an open mind! Thank you all, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Also I don't own any of these places, characters, items, ect. In general everything belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I own nothing.**

* * *

_**The Misty Mountains**_

"Oh dear…" Muttered Gandalf the grey, halting the rest of the fellowship who were only to glad to take a break.

Merry, along with the others towards the back tried to get a glimpse of the source of their stopping. It was already horrid enough that he had to walk among the freezing snow, but the more time his bare, hairy feet touched the stuff the more blue his lips became. All except for him, stood in silence gazing upon the _thing_ which had stopped them. Though, being a hobbit, he couldn't manage peer over Legolas. Having no other option, he bounced on the tips of his toes, straining his neck to get a better look.

"What is it?" He called to the front of the line, his voice lost in the volume of the snow, and the rush of wind.

Though he quite clearly heard Merry, the wizard had no intention of answering. For he was deep in thought and concern as he stared at the object in front of him. Before Gandalf, peeking out of the snow, was a very pale, and slender hand. The rest of the person was absent, for they seemed to be buried in the thick blanket of snow. The hand moved not at all. The sight of it made chills run down the spine.

"Well?" questioned Boromir, his voice cutting through the thick anxiety filled silence. He looked to the rest of the company for a response, though found none. They remained quiet, gazing at the hand, deep in each of their own thoughts. Though most of the thoughts consisted of, _What is that?_

"Um…pardon me," Sam offered quietly, his face clearly flushing. All turned to face him, hardly helping at all. "S-shouldn't we help the poor fellow? I mean..it's only decent…right...?" He trailed off into whispers then to nothing, and looked down. Frodo patted him gently on the back, then looked up to the rest of the company.

"I believe we should-"

"Well get on with it, then!" Gimli demanded, "We can't stand in this cursed snow all day, can we?"

Merry and Pippin nodded in agreement.

Seeing that no one else was going to do anything, Aragorn moved his way to the front of the line the fellowship developed for walking, plowing through the snow. Once he arrived, he carefully brushed the snow from around the hand, revealing a wrist, then slowly an arm. Legolas came to help too, though when he walked upon the snow, he didn't sink; He walked on top as if it was a solid surface. Then, in no more than ten gripping minutes, they had revealed the body of the person buried in the snow.

To the fellowship's surprise the 'fellow' as Sam had called the hand, was a woman. An elf woman, to their great surprise. She was very young compared to Legolas. Yet much older than most men. She looked as if she would be sixteen or seventeen if she was a human, but Legolas guessed she was probably fifty to seventy years old. Her skin was very pale, most likely because of being buried in the snow. Her chapped lips were cherry red, shining with the water of the snow. She wore a sand colored leather bodice, made up of smaller pieces of the material. She had matching braces engraved with gold elven symbols, going down the sides in swirls and circles. Boots of a darker brown covered her feet, and reached halfway up her shin. Her bare arms were covered by a dark green cloak tied around her neck. A loose belt went around her waist, which housed and empty dagger sheath and various pockets. A torn and dirty white skirt went to her knees, though now it looked quite close to black. Her eyes were closed gently, as if she was asleep, though her expression looked pained. Dark onyx hair fell to her shoulders then down to her back. She had many cuts along her cheek, the most noticeable was a long scar running a couple centimeters away from her eye, to close to the corner of her lips. Along her side was three deep gashes, cutting through her leather bodice, filled with dark dried blood. They seemed only a couple of days old. Dried blood stained her bare arms along with caked mud.

Gandalf stared at the elf girl deep in thought. Frodo watched him, waiting for his wise instructions. He could tell by his expression that the wizard was puzzled. "Is she alive?" he asked Legolas quite distracted. The elf then felt her wrist. "She breathes, though almost barely." Legolas confirmed gruffly.

"Secure her on the pony if you don't mind." Gandalf murmured.

"His name is Bill." Corrected Sam a bit too loudly, feeling somewhat smug that he had just corrected a wizard. And not only just a wizard, Gandalf.

Aragorn easily lifted up the elven girl and put her over his shoulder. Aided by Legolas, he placed her on _Bill_ the pony, atop the supplies that he was already carrying. "Keep your eye on her if you don't mind, Sam." Aragon said, putting his hand on the hobbit's shoulder.

Sam nodded, patting the girl's shoulder.

The fellowship shifted back into place, returning to their frigid climb once again, as much as their bodies refused to. As they neared the top of the mountain of Caradhras, a sweeping wind brought a terrible blizzard way too fast to be natural.

By this time the fellowship was to their shoulders in snow. All except for Legolas, who still walked lightly on top without sinking. Aragorn and Borimir each carried two hobbits in order for their heads to stay above the snow. Gandalf knew instantly that it was Saruman who had sent the ferocious blizzard. He decided to retreat, sending the fellowship back down the mountain, dodging the falling snow and rocks. They were now back where they had started, blocked by the Misty Mountains.

Behind the safety of the tree line of a forest, they set up camp, collapsing into slumber. It had been a long and tiring day. But of course their troubles only had just begun.

* * *

_A gasp of pain was let out. There was nothing she could do, absolutely nothing. It was now a battle of will. Her body had surrendered to the pain; she knew she couldn't let her mind surrender as well. She tried to escape the shackles that bound her to the wall, though it was completely in vain. The whip cracked again. A gut wrenching scream escaped her lungs. Her body shook violently. In a blur the shackles were suddenly unlocked. She collapsed on the floor, like a lifeless doll, her own blood forming a pool upon the cold ground._

_Her captors laughed wickedly, chucking her feather light body back inside the cell. She curled up into the corner, crying out in pain each time she moved. Now was the most mentally exhausting part; awaiting her next torture. Though she was terribly scared, she did not cry. All she could do was accept her fate and pray for it to end. And oh did she pray, though everyday she lost more faith. It was him that kept her going, kept her from allowing them to murder her._

_The darkness came again.  
_

_She was out cold. They watched, they hated. She wouldn't cave in. They did everything right. "What will he do to us?" They hissed in fear. She was useless. Her will was too strong. She wasn't supposed to resist._

_The debate was over. She was no longer needed. So, she was killed._

* * *

**I know, short chapter. I'm sorry! Don't worry, the next one's are ALL much longer than this. You know how it is- I just needed to get start.**

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	2. Chapter 2 Black Stone

**Hey again! I greatly thank ****Luna Elen for posting her (The 1 and only) comment! Tsk, tsk everyone!****Remember to please comment after reading the story! I can only improve if you tell me what I'm doing wrong/right ect.**

**Once again I don't own any of these characters, places, anything! All rights reserved to J. R. R. Tolkien**

_**

* * *

Sam**_

I shifted my bed roll once again. This was the seventh time I had moved it, or was it the fifth? It was all thanks to roots, rocks, and twigs. Or generally nature. _No, not nature! You're a gardener_, _Samwise_. I reminded myself, but then again, I still couldn't sleep, and my job at the moment was certainly not being a gardener.

As I settled down under the thin, patched cloth I used as a blanket, I felt a sharp rock push into my back. I winched instantly. That was it. I just couldn't sleep. Not here, or at least not like this.

I sat up, putting my hands on the bare ground. Now accustomed to the dark, I could make out the shapes of the others, who were fast asleep. Merry and Pippin of course hogged the only two spots near the fire. Though sitting near the fire would be very benefiting to them at the moment, for the flames had turned to dying embers. I looked towards the back where with his bridle tied to a tree, Bill lay down, probably exhausted from carrying the elf girl today. I finally turned my gaze to Frodo who lay sound asleep next to me, the ring on its chain laid on the ground. I felt so terrible seeing him suffer; I could see that the weight of his task began to bring him down. He shivered slightly, so I pulled his thin blanket over his shoulder gently. I smiled. It was the least I could do for him.

Just to make sure I wouldn't wake anyone if I got up, I looked around again briefly. It was only polite. The rock where Strider was keeping watch from was now deserted. I could barely imagine where he would go, but I knew for certain he would be back before the others woke up. "Anyone awake?" I whispered faintly. The only response I received was the chirp of a cricket, and a loud snore from Gimli. I couldn't help but chuckle lightly to myself.

"Guess you're alone Sam," I said quietly, "Might as well pass the time." Pushing down and off the ground, I stood upright. Taking one last sweep of the camp then began to weave my way through the maze of bed rolls. I cursed my feet for being so large. Several times, I nearly stepped on a member of the fellowship. I particularly remember almost stepping on Pippin's face. That wouldn't have ended up well. Though I was tempted. After a couple of long minutes I reached the fallen log that rested in front of the practically dead fire. I carefully took a seat on the edge of the log, making sure that I actually sat on the log. I clasped my hands together, and looked around for a suitable stick or two, to get the fire started again. As my gaze shifted to the other side of the log, I jumped slightly and caught breath. "Oh Samwise..." I thought, "It's just the elf girl."

She was laid on her back, her arms dangling over the sides of the log, both her legs bent and facing the fire. Her hair fell over the side of the log facing the fire too. Her cloak was draped over her. I sure hoped she'd live.

I watched her for awhile, humming to myself a song I heard back in the Shire. "The Shire…" I sighed. I still wondered how I had managed to get so far from home, so far away from anything familiar. As I eyed the dying embers of the fire, I began to picture the day of my return.

_Mr. Frodo and I would walk down the streets of Hobbiton, all the hobbits waving and cheering. The blossoming trees would be in full bloom, and the grass at its greenest. The sky would be crystal blue, not a single wisp of cloud in the sky. We would walk strait to Bag End, where Bilbo would be waiting for us. We would embrace, and tell our grand adventures over a nice warm cup of tea. As the sun would sink behind the horizon, I would depart for the pub. As soon as I'd open the door, Rosie would leap into my arms. I'd propose to her right then, she'd say yes immediately. Our wedding would take place in a week. We would have children, lots… _

"Oh Rosie…" I whispered. Suddenly things began to look blurry, as if someone had taken their thumb, and smeared the surroundings like it was a painting. I completely lost feeling. Lady slumber began to welcome me in to her open arms, and I didn't resist. I slid to the ground, so that my back leaned on the log. The last thing I remembered was the dying embers going out.

* * *

**_Aragorn_**

All night I had tried. All night nothing worked, and yet I didn't stop.

She was an elf. She was much stronger than any mortal man, but her flame was dangerously close to going out.

I emerged from the forest, clutching a torch in one hand, and the athelas in the other. _This better work_, I thought. I couldn't hope though, hoping was dangerous. If you had too much, and it was killed, crushed, or torn apart, the devastation was a passage for the enemy. You were turned weak and vulnerable. The two things I couldn't be now.

As I edged closer, the camp came into view. All was as I left it to be. Though this time Sam was fast asleep leaning on the log I rested her on. I let out a deep sigh of relief. I knew leaving my watch was risky, too risky. Now I questioned why I did it in the first place. But what was done was done, I had to move on.

Without making a sound, I made my way over to log. Kneeling over to the elf, I pulled up my crumpled sleeves, and begun my work.

I put a piece of curved bark under the athelas, or kingsfoil as Sam called it. Putting my water flask over the torch, I got the water to steam. Steadily I poured the water over the athelas, releasing its strong, healing odor. I put the bark on the elf's chest, hoping that the smell would awaken her.

After about an hour, the smell died. She remained as motionless as ever. I took the bark with the athelas and held it between my fingers. _What did I forget? _I sighed and flung it into the brush. I had tried everything.

I placed my torch into the fire pit that Boromir had created earlier. The half burnt logs caught the flame, and within minutes a crackling fire began once again.

I stared at the elf, the fire illuminating her features. I tried every plant, and every method I knew. _Why wasn't it working? _Then it hit me. _Dark magic, wizardry. _

Suddenly the elf made a sudden spastic movement. I immediately knelt over her, putting my hand on her shoulder. Her chest heaved up and down way too fast. Something dark seemed to try and posses her. Suddenly the elf's eyes flew open, and then shut. She let out a gut wrenching scream.

I could hear the some of the fellowship begin to wake.

"What is going on?" yelled Gimli.

The elf clasped her hands around her neck, as if she was chocking. Her body violently shook. A bead of sweat fell down her forehead. A scream escaped her lips again.

* * *

Aragorn darted to Gandalf, pushing Merry and Pippin out of the way. The let out angered crys, but no one took any heed of them. Before Aragon arrived, Gandalf was of course already awake. He walked briskly to the side of the log, robes flying behind him.

"Please…everyone step back." He said sternly. No one questioned him. Each could tell this was urgent, and dark. They formed a semicircle behind Gandalf all watching the elf girl intensely.

The wizard sat next to her, putting one hand on the elf's chest, holding his staff in the other. He closed his eyes, listening to something. He stood up quickly. "Some one hand me their dagger, or knife. Now."

Aragorn, pulled his blade out of his sheath, just as the elven girl let out another shrill cry.

Frodo watched him horrified. "You're going to kill her?"

Gandalf took no heed. He took the blade and held it to her bodice. "You can't kill her!" Frodo cried.

In a swift movement, Gandalf sliced through the ties of the elven bodice, and pulled it away. Frodo exhaled deeply, only to find that he caught his breath once again. For a haunting glossy black stone was set onto the elves chest. From the stone, black lines of poison ran into her veins. They ran under a thin undergarment covered the rest of her slim torso.

"What is that?" whispered Boromir.

Gandalf muttered something under his breath. The black stone appeared to be spreading black poison through the elves veins. The wizard began to chant a spell in a language none of the fellowship recognized. He tried to touch the stone in order to remove it, but as soon as his skin touched the smooth surface of the stone, he immediately drew back, and the elf moaned in great pain. Once again Gandalf tried to remove the stone with a different spell, but it lead to the same effect.

Legolas felt her pulse again, "She doesn't have much time." The poison began to crawl towards her neck.

Gandalf furrowed his brow. He picked up his staff again, and pressed the crystal to the stone. As he began a new chant, the crystal let off a white glow. Gandalf's voice grew louder, and his staff began to glow brighter. As he finished the last word of his chant, the white light expanded greatly, blinding the fellowship for a second. Then it was gone.

They were devoured into darkness again. The fire hand completely gone out.

"Did it work?" asked Sam innocently.

Gandalf lit up his staff again, shining its light over the elf. The poison had completely vanished, but the stone still remained. Though this time, instead of a pitch black, the stone was now clear aqua, like the stone set on his staff. But still, its presence was strangely eerie.

The elf's eyes fluttered open for a moment. The shone brilliant emerald with a small circle of amber around the pupil. She looked at all the faces staring down at her. "Gen… hannon," she murmured. She lifted her hand slowly, but then dropped it, flinching. Her eyes closed.

A crow cried menacingly, and then flew away with ease.

"I think," Boromir said gravely, "someone would've seen that."


	3. Chapter 3 An Eventful Night

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"I have made up my mind gentlemen. I cannot be swayed now." The wizard's voice rose. They had been arguing in circles for the past hour.

"I know the elf cannot travel, Gandalf, but we are sitting ducks right now." Boromir urged. "Someone was bound to see the flash minutes ago!"

"Boromir-"Gandalf started.

"Forget the elf!" Gimli yelled, sitting down on a large rock. "She isn't in the fellowship, so she is **not **our concern. We are wasting our time and energy and…" he drifted off into angered murmurs.

"We are staying here until she awakes, that is final." Gandalf's voice was firm, and strong, declaring that, that was the end of the matter. No one protested after that. They were tired from the days failed climb, and from unexpected trouble not just an hour before. Bickering would only tire them more, so what was the point. Sooner or later they all begrudgingly returned to their beds, minds whirling in hundreds of directions. If it wasn't for their exhaustion, they would've remained awake from their thoughts. Though within an hour, all were asleep. All but Frodo Baggins.

* * *

**_Frodo_**

I walked slowly to the fallen log, as if in a dream. Every time I made a step, my curiosity grew. As it neared, I grazed my hand over the crisp rectangles of bark. I sat down staring wide-eyed at the crackling inferno before me. The fire seemed to dance before my eyes. I took a deep breath in, closing my eyes. Then suddenly, I felt _it_ calling again.

_Frodo…Frodo Baggins…It's me, your_ _precious…precious…_

It lured my hand to my chest. I felt my fingers touch a button on my frayed and thinning blouse. I resisted. "It's trying to return to its master," Gandalf's words repeated in my head. A sudden feeling like someone was watching me, made me turn around, pulling my hand away.

I was correct, someone was watching me. It was the elf girl we found buried in the snow, she was staring up at the sky, the stars shining in her eyes. Her face was less pale now, more of a healthy color, but still her skin was very light. She remained lying down, most likely to weak to sit up.

She darted her eyes left then right, probably wondering about where she was. Then she dropped them to look at her chest. Immediately she let a sharp intake of breath. Slowly she turned her head to the side, her expression reading great pain, landing her gaze on me.

"Pedich Edhellen?" She whispered faintly. She looked a bit surprised.

"Law," I responded quietly, remembering the small amount of elvish Bilbo had taught me. Though I bet I pronounced it wrong. "I speak the common tongue." I gave her an apologetic, half smile.

She then tried to nod. "Who are you?" I could now hear her voice more clearly now. It was graceful and smooth, gliding through words without any difficulty, like a knife slicing through melting butter.

I suddenly awoke from my thoughts. "Oh yes! Um…Frodo." I corrected myself, "Frodo Baggins."

She returned a slight smile to me this time. I noticed her flinch though afterwards. She did best to try and hide her pain. I felt a strong sense of empathy to her, remembering when I had awoken from being stabbed by the Nazgûl. I recalled pain coming back in waves, hitting me when I least expected it. I had felt very disoriented and unsure. I wondered if it was the same for her.

"Not to trouble you with questions," I paused as she turned her emerald eyes to me once again. "But who might you be?"

"I am Calatheil of Mirkwood...though it has been long since I have been there." she trailed of, finishing in a remorseful sigh.

"'Tis strange," Frodo commented, "The elf Legolas who is with us also came from Mirkwood."

"The prince of Mirkwood hmm?" She rolled on to her back once again; she had a bemused smile on her face for some reason. I dared not pester her why, though. "He's far from his home as well."

Then all of a sudden, my stomach dropped. I could not reason why nor how. But it did without any given warning. I knew that something was terribly amiss. _Quite an eventful night…_I grimaced. A sudden cold breeze made my hand instinctively reach for Sting.

A sudden gasp of breath made me turn to face Calatheil again. She had her hand over top the stone on her chest. "Frodo," she sounded suddenly terrified, and desperate. "Wake them up, now… it is taking me again."

"Why? What is-"

"I know you felt it," she whispered loosing strength. I listened intensely, now over come with curiosity, but soon I realized she was to say nothing more on the subject.

A branch cracked in the distance, followed by birds calling and scattering into the sky. Calatheil shot strait up like an arrow. Though I could tell she instantly regretted it. A faint cry of pain escaped her lips before she fell into a heap off the log. I rushed over to her; she looked up at me with her eyes wide in fear. "Don't let _them_…get me…again." She whispered.

Something _was _coming, for I could sense it in my heart. Her fear slowly became mine. I began to panic. "Gand-" I tried to holler before she clamped her hand on my shoulder.

"It is too late…they draw too close." She barely made a sound. "Save yourself…Frodo Baggins…I cannot run."

I know whether not what I did was out of fear and terror, pity and kindness, or a combination of the two. But with all the might a hobbit could have, I took the elf's arms, and brought them over my shoulders. Then with my hands I held them there. I pulled her sagging body with all my strength, her legs dragging across the ground. I think by the time I had pulled her deep into the brush, away from the camp, I was physically exhausted. But I could never tell for all went black.

* * *

Birds chirped gleefully as they flitted around the trees. Their happiness seemed to mock me. I kept my eyes remained close. Bilbo was sure to come and wake me any moment now, but I was too tired to leave bed. I tried to savor the last minutes of rest.

_Precious…You want me, precious…_

_The ring! But that ment, this wasn't a dream. _I shoved my hand, frantically, into my blouse, searching for that cold metal chain. The worst I feared was true. I was on a quest. A utterly dangerous quest which a hobbit should never be in. I was lost in a tangled web that fate decided to shove me into.

My heart dropped, longing for this all to go back to normal. But I have had several fantasies like this one. The first one stung deep, as if I would never return to the Shire again. But as they continued, their pain wore off slowly, bit by bit. But it wasn't enough to make a difference.

Memories returned to me in less than a blink of the eye. _Calatheil,_ I thought repeatedly. That was it; I had to open my eyes. _1, 2…3_. The almost dazing light off the Misty Mountain made me shield my eyes with my wrist. The snow covering each mountain seemed to reflect the light of the sun, maybe even more powerful. The thousands of trees over me cast weird shadows and patterns of sunlight all over the forests floor. I turned my aching head side to side. I appeared to be in a dense brush, covered by lush bushes and small trees, seemingly protected against prying eyes.

As I turned on to my stomach, pushing my arms under me in attempt to get myself on my feet again, I felt Sting slide out of its sheath. As I slightly wobbled, catching my balance again, I noticed Sting far to the right of me. I brushed aside the leaves and roots that covered it, only to find a new sense of panic. It was glowing blue.

"Orcs!" I whispered, grabbing Sting by the hilt, holding it out. The enchanted sword had to be wrong. It was too quiet for hundreds of beasts to be marching around. But could magic swords be incorrect?

"Don't let _them_…get me…again." _Sam! Aragorn, Gandalf! _My mind raced in so many directions. I knew that they could take care of themselves, fairly well actually, but they seemed so far away, and I was _not _particularly good at taking care of myself. I needed to know where they were, I was so vulnerable at the moment. One orc could walk around the corner this instant, and I would be dead, Middle Earth at the will of Sauron. _Don't think such thoughts._ I tried to shove those thoughts away.

I couldn't just stand there and wait for some terrible creature to find me. I looked around for any possible help. My eyes fell upon a thick oak tree, which branches started low to the ground. Being a hobbit, climbing trees was never easy, but maybe if I could just put my feet upon the branches…

Before I knew it I was atop the tree, legs hanging over the top branch, leaves covering me from sight. A new sense of dread filled me as I looked to the clearing where the fellowship had set camp before. A large black tent covered at least half of the clearing; a pale white hand poorly painted on the top. Five similar tents lay across the large one, the white hand getting horrifyingly familiar. Orcs guarded the entrance to each tent.

I knew for sure that now the fellowship was captured; dead or alive now was the question, though I was absolutely terrified to know the answer. I lowered myself slowly down to the forest floor, my feet gratified to feel solid ground again.

They had all suffered because of my forgetfulness. Calatheil had told me to warn them, but I disobeyed. _It was a good cause though! _I reminded myself, _the elf had fallen off the log. "_That's a pathetic excuse_**.**_"I whispered angrily.I kicked the old oak tree, spun, then slid down leaning on it with my back.

It was all because of me. Because _I_ had the ring, Sam, Pippin, and Merry were all brought into a quest which didn't concern them. Because of _me _the whole fellowship was going to be killed. And only in a short amount of time, Sauron would rule over Middle Earth, most likely killing all breathing beings, because of _me_.

This was too much for me. I closed my eyes, hoping to fall asleep to enjoy another unreal Shire. To forget about the pain that was rapidly approaching, maybe to even forget everything. But then I remembered something I should've thought of earlier.

_Calatheil isn't here.

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	4. Chapter 4 The White Hand

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_Calathiel_  
**

Flashes of being dragged, shoved, and hurt replayed viciously without end, the same pain coming with each one. Yells, and shouts rang through my ears, faint slurs of movement passed before my eyes, though it was too dark to make out what anything was. I was helpless, and limp. Blood. Horrifying images I wished I had forgotten. Cries of pain.

Then it all came to a stop.

I was back inside my head at the present moment. I could not even guess as to how long I was out for. _It was probably for too long_, I thought pessimistically, _all was surely lost_.

I weaved in and out of memories, retracing my steps, trying to find the place where I had fallen into those haunting hours of darkness. The hours of which I could not take hold of my body, much less defend myself. It was those times when you had to accept your fate, not matter what it should be. Reawakening and taking action was the next step.

_Yes, that's it, _I thought as images of the hobbit returned. _He was watching over me when I awoke. _I'm sure I smiled at the thought of him. There was something terribly strange about that hobbit. I had searched his heart, feeling it kind and pure, but something of unimaginable evil lurked about him. It wasn't part of him, but it had begun to eat his soul bit by bit. I pushed those thoughts to the side; I could not be troubled with questions such as those at the moment.

Then, I recalled the white hand reaching out to me for the second time that night. It took hold of me once again, an unforgiving grip like iron. I struggled in vain. That was probably when I had gone out.

I opened my eyes groggily, blinking slowly only to find that I was still in complete darkness. This was certainly not good.

I tested my wrists, relieved to find that I wasn't overcome by burning pain. Though it didn't last at all, for I could sense tight cords tied around my wrists. I did the same with my legs, only to find the same outcome.

Panic began to try to overtake me, though I put up a long fight. _What good would a cry for help do, when especially none are going to help you?_ I reminded myself. Crying for help would show only a weak will. It would be a battle of the mind, and I needed as much will power as I could manage.

Very light steps entered my range of hearing, followed by very heavy stomps. My body tensed, causing me to sit up straight.

"Remove it," ordered a strong, low voice. No sooner, had I began to feel rough hands on my head.

Bright light filled my vision, causing me to squint my eyes. I couldn't make out anything, but a tall figure dressed in only white. _Not him…_ I blinked repeatedly, trying to get my eyes used to the light.

"Ah," sneered the man, "one of my favorites. It has been much too long, elf."

Suddenly my vision had returned to me. Yes it was him, _the white wizard._

"I knew it was a mistake leaving you atop the Misty Mountains," he said calmly, walking around the stool I appeared to be tied to. "But apparently it turned to my…advantage."

I stared at him cautiously. "What do you mean? I did nothing to help you."

Saruman smirked, continuing to stride around me, like a hawk circling its prey. "When the wizard, Gandalf the grey, challenged the magic of the _gift _I gave you…" I looked down at my chest. My leather bodice was cut open, so that the once black stone was visible. The worn out undershirt I wore was stained with blood. _What a wonderful gift…_

He fixed me with stare, and then continued. "It immediately led us to your location, and showed us that you were indeed alive." He smoothly glided to a grey marble table, and glanced down at a crumpled book. Among it were many sheets of parchment. He ran his hand lightly over the contents of the table, pausing over a chestnut chest. Then he looked back up at me. "Much to my…let's just say pleasure, your saviors happen to be of some value to me."

I felt my stomach drop. _So_ _it is my fault that the white wizard captured the men who helped me_. Thanks to me they were most likely dead. _Don't believe the wicked words the wizard speaks. _I reminded myself, _he is trying to control you. _

"Then what am I to you, Saruman?" I asked steadily, making sure to add a rough edge to my voice. "You have already proved your victory. I am no further value to you certainly. I don't have—"

"Is it not so obvious?" I hated how I seemed to amuse him. After I failed to answer, he spoke again. "You stole it, and it is now part of you. I need it, and by extension, I need you then."

"I don't under—"

"The stone, now embedded in your chest," he gestured to it. "Discovered in the early ages of Middle Earth, it was known as _gurtha sangwa_ in the old elvish tongue of Quenya. It releases deathly venom into the—well I'm sure you already know the consequences..."

The wizard ceased pacing so that he stood right in front of me, he bended closer. I turned away, so as not to look into his eyes. "The only way to get that stone off of you is if you are… _dead_." My eyes widened, but I still kept my face turned away. "Do not worry elf. I do not long for blood shed as some do. We shall do this in a...a civil fashion. The poison of the stone shall be your means of death." I could feel my stomach twist into a knot, knowing the tortures before me. Saruman leaned closer towards me, "Though...it seems my _dear_ friend Gandalf has done something to it… No matter."

With a strong shove, Saruman pushed me down onto the dirt floor, the stool fell in a clatter to the side. From within the folds of his white robes, he pulled his staff out. I rolled as fast as I could to my right, and got myself onto my feet again. Then suddenly, I felt a rush of wind, and then noticed that my feet were above the ground. Before I knew it, I was slammed onto the ground again. I could not move. Something was pinning me down.

"It is foolish," Saruman remarked, placing the bottom of his staff on top of the stone_, _"There is no escape, elf." Then he began chanting, his voice booming and commanding. I closed my eyes as the air around me began to thin.

* * *

**_Calathiel_**

Large, rough hands grabbed each of my shoulders. Without thinking I swung my leg upwards, above my head, landing a kick on something. But the grip on my shoulders remained firm.

I was suddenly lifted off my feet, unable to touch the ground. We began moving forwards. I slowly turned my head, only to see that I was being held by monstrous creatures, known as orcs. This only made me try harder.

I flung my arms this way and that, throwing my weight forwards. "Shop it, she-elf!" Yelled the orc who I had kicked. "Don't give me reason to hurt you perfect face." I considered it for a moment, but continued struggling as we moved closer to a nearby tent.

The orc to my left grabbed the death-like black flap of a larger tent. I hung limp, unable to fight any longer. I looked back to the ground, my hair hanging around my face, curling at the bottoms. I could catch a jangle of keys, a click, and then a groan of rusty hinges.

Suddenly I was flung forwards into pitch-blackness. I made contact with the bone chilling metal, sliding painfully upon its surface. I could feel my cuts and gashes opening again. I clamped my eyes shut, trying to block my mind from the never ending pain.

The doors of the cage slammed shut, eliminating all sources of light.

I felt the warm blood trickle down my arms. I opened my eyes slowly once again, still sprawled along the floor of the cage. I tried to control my violently shaking body, but it was in vain. _This is my fault._

A gentle hand lightly touched my shoulder, causing me to draw back. The hand seemed to do the same.

"It's 'er," said a somewhat familiar hoarse voice.

* * *

Aragorn looked up from his kneeling position. He surveyed the new figure. Though the cage was very dark, he could make out that it was indeed the elf girl. She looked quite awake though this time.

Legolas peered up from fiddling with his binds. His face as un-readable as always.

"'ow did you get 'ere?" Sam inquired softly to the elf, who looked slightly alarmed at the moment. She slowly pulled her arms underneath her torso, and pushed herself up slightly.

"This…is my fault…" her voice seemed to falter. She pulled her knees towards herself, and easily to found a corner to lean on.

Aragorn gave her a comforting glance, "What's done is-"

"You don't understand," her voice rose, "I knew they were coming…I was too weak to do anything. It was me who caused the hobbit—"

"You know of Frodo?" Legolas asked instinctively. Sam's face lit up brighter than it had been in days.

The elf girl nodded.

"Was he with you?" Aragorn leaned closer.

"He was trying to get me away from the camp…I pushed him into the brush before they caught me. I didn't see him after that…"

"Then there is hope left!" exclaimed Sam. Aragorn looked at him pitifully. _There it is again, hope,_ he thought.

"Nay," she remarked putting her hand to her chest.

Legolas got up and walked closer, putting his hand on the stone. "It has changed since Gandalf used magic on it."

"So that means...?" Sam thought aloud.

"It means," the elf continued for him, "If your friend Gandalf or someone, doesn't stop the poison from spreading…it shall be the end for me, and Saruman will have his gurtha sangwa back."

The cage went into silence again; each captive plunged deep into thought.

"Sorry 'bout not askin' earlier…" Sam spoke quietly, "But what might we call you?"

The elf offered a half smile back to him, "You may call me Calathiel, seeing that we may be spending some time together…and may I ask, why is it that a man, an elf prince, a wizard, and several hobbits are wanted by a certain evil wizard?"

"Have you heard of a ring?" Aragorn questioned, lowering his voice.

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	5. Chapter 5 Cage of Shadow

**Yay, Chapter 5 is finally here! I would like to dedicate this chapter to all my lovely comment/review writers! All of you are so encouraging and really give me something to write for! : ) (lol a bit cheesy there, sorry!)**

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* * *

Calathiel lowered her angled chin atop her folded hands. Her eyes stared at the unforgiving, ice-cold metal of the floor of the cage. Her face was completely unreadable. Her mind was surely far away. "Though it sounds strange, that actually makes a lot of sense." She commented, shattering the silence.

Aragorn nodded, and then rocked backwards so that his back leaned against the wall. His grey eyes remained on her.

The she-elf turned head to her left, to face Sam, her raven black waves shifting. "Where are the others then?"

"Well, um…They're-…" Sam stuttered, the darkness hiding his flushed cheeks.

"I believe they are in something like this," Legolas nodded towards the bolted door. "Though I pray they never were caught in the first place." He crossed his legs smoothly, his back strait up.

A dreadful silence fell upon the company of four. A cloud of fear hung over their doomed cell. Their lives were in a terribly uneven balance, only hours away from tipping over. But each hour could feel like a life time, and a life can feel like an eternity.

As always, Legolas, being an elf, did not show his fear. Aragorn too did not seem the least bit fearful. He did not dread the safety of himself at all, only the doom that could easily kill the four hobbits, who's lives could've been so promising. Yet they gave them up in order to help their friends. Sam on the other hand, envied the two. Every part of him was so unused to the stress and pain that was brought every day, already. But by adding the previous turn of events, he was very much unlike himself.

A sudden array of movement made the three members of the separated fellowship turn.

"Ahhh," Calathiel moaned faintly, her head leaned back to the sky. She pulled at her frayed undergarment, her face growing red. Her legs trying to push her back, deeper into the corner she was leaning on.

Sam kneeled closer, his voice somewhat panicked, "What is it m'lady?" When she did not answer, holding the same pained pose, he gave an exasperated look to Aragorn.

"Sam," he said, slightly more worried than normal. "It is in none of our control. It's dark magic." Sam moved over to Calathiel's side, and patted her shoulder comfortingly. His eyes were full of sympathy. Suddenly she exhaled deeply, her cheeks losing some of their redness. Her muscles loosened, suddenly allowing her spring back up to her queenly posture.

"N—no need," she muttered to Sam, a bit out of breath. She gently brushed his hand off her shoulder, trying to give him a smile. When he turned away, looking slightly sad that she backed away from his efforts of kindness, she offered a quiet and humbled "thank you". Sam turned and nodded back. That was enough for him.

"'ere." He said, handing her a squashed half of bread, "I'm guessing you haven't eaten in some time now…" Calathiel took the piece of bread slightly hesitating. After several mouthfuls she remarked, "You are quite kind, Samwise. Thank you, once more."

He smiled for the first time in a while.

After finishing the bread, Calathiel turned to face the center of the cage once again. Shattering the silence dropped upon the four, she spoke, "In reply to you, Aragorn, it was in one of ours control." Sam looked at her questionably. She sighed, and then repositioned herself. In a tone, somewhat above a whisper she spoke, "If I know about the…ring…then I think you should know at least a little about why we are all doomed to die, and why it is _my_ fault."

All eyes fell upon her.

* * *

_**Calathiel**_

"A fool I was, yes. But I cannot turn back the hands of time, nor can anyone. Back to the matter, it began after Legolas had left Mirkwood, my home. I was given a simple task, to deliver a message of my people to the council being held at Rivendel…"

I pulled a crumpled piece of parchment out of a leather pouch, bound on my belt. I held it before my face, squinting to try to get a glimpse of the writing in the dark. Though soon I realized the ink was smeared and running, most likely because of the snow. I slowly crumpled the parchment, and easily tossed it to an unknown location, shrouded with the surrounding darkness.

"Not even but a week after I began to make my way to the house of Elrond, I met a terribly bloody, and fearful elf, who apparently went hunting not long before I left my homeland. He spoke of a new darkness growing in Isengard, and a weapon of great distruction. Then he collapsed on the spot, died right before my eyes." I gulped slightly. "I was much too far away from Rivendel, or Mirkwood to help, or warn anyone. Though I was only three days from Isengard. I acted hastily, rashly. I didn't weigh my options carefully, nay; I did not weigh them at all. Stupidly I traveled to Orthanc.

"Oh what a sight it was. Destruction, and fire surrounding the once marvelous tower that served our wizards. Though as I watched it from a distance, it was not marvelous in the least. It was a symbol of fear and terror. Hundreds of cavers, aglow with the light of burning wood, were filled with vile orcs, and uruck-hai. They were being bred for one purpose, to destroy the world of men."

I paused for a moment, looking down towards the freezing metal of the cage. The memories were so fresh, yet so unreal. Pain seemed to slur the images. I could feel the eyes of my listeners.

I looked up again, and cleared my throat. Aragorn seemed to tense at the mention of 'destroy the world of men'. "Without too much difficulty," I started calmly, "I penetrated the forces guarding Saruman's tower, and snuck inside its iron doors, only to find them slam closed behind me. I froze. Twisted laughter filled the winding corridors of the tower, causing me to tense up. The laughing slowly grew louder, seeming to come at me from every direction. Instinctively I ran, trying to escape whoever the laughing belonged too. As my footsteps began to get quicker, more doors began slamming behind me. In my mind it became more apparent that there was no escape at all.

"Suddenly the corridors stopped, leaving me inside a large dark room. I stopped to take a breath, supporting myself in a crouched position. It was silent again. Not a sound from anything, anywhere. It was _too_ quiet, perhaps. Sensing no one's presence, I got up and looked around. On a marble platform, behind a large desk, lay a chestnut box, the size of a normal chest. It had a silver lock on the front, the only lock in the whole room. That was enough to make me guess that it was of some importance. Taking a pin out of my hair, I used it to pick the lock. In a short amount of time, I was looking upon a large, glossy black, square, the size of my two palms. On the lid of the chest, a small engraving read: _May death fall to the enemy of the holder. May poison kill the heart, may poison kill the hope._"

"Oh, save us…" muttered the hobbit.

I cleared my voice once again. "I was almost sure that this was Saruman's new weapon. So I took my dagger," subconsciously, my hand went to the empty sheath on my waist. "And I stabbed the stone. Only seconds after my stroke fell, an overpowering blast erupted from the stone. I was thrown backwards into the opposite wall. After that I blacked out. When I awoke, I found I was in a cell somewhere deep inside Isengard."

"What of the stone, then?" Legolas asked.

"During the blast, a shard of the stone latched onto me somehow." My voice cracked, "Saruman was unable to get it off me. In no shorter than several day, he somehow he discovered that I was on my way to Rivendel. Of course he guessed I knew of the ring...so, I was tortured. After that, the memories are…too horrid, too fresh. I shall not say more." I felt my back loosen, and then slowly I slid downwards into a slumping position. I fought to keep my eyelids open.

"Do not put blame upon yourself," Aragorn spoke. "In my eyes, you did the correct thing to do at the moment."

"Thank you," I muttered, ripping a long piece of material off my skirt, binding the bleeding gash on my arm.

"Rest now, Calathiel. I have a feeling tomorrow we will all need our strength." That was all I needed to hear.

Without hesitation, I curled up in the corner of the cage, farthest away from the opening. Things began to get blurry. Resting my head on my arms, I closed my eyes wearily, letting my mind go blank, praying to not receive a dream, but I was never so lucky. Sleep began to take hold of me.

* * *

_Crippled and limp, laying like an unwanted doll. Black, everything was black. Blood caked my face, along with dirt, and dried sweat. I had not the strength to move from my position, _What happened to me? How long have I been here? _My breath quickened. I longed for him, I longed for home._

_Heavy steps. Closer, and closer. _No…no. Leave me…alone. _Metal clanged roughly, footsteps were closer. More steps echoing through cell._

_Large boots, in metal shoes, collided with my side. Pain…burning pain, it wouldn't end. Barbaric laughter, I shuddered, clamping my eyes shut._

"_Get up, she-elf…"whispered a cruel and harsh voice in sticky-sweet mockery. I brought my knees to my chest with a weak cry. Another kick. I could feel warm blood trickle down my side. I could not find my voice any longer._

_Two sets of gloved hands grabbed me, my body left the ground. _Not again…please.

_A door creaked open. The gloved hands left me. I was flying through the air. Suddenly, hard, unforgiving stone met me. __**Crack**_. _I landed on my arm. More blackness._

"_No, we cannot kill our guest. She is of utmost importance to me…"_

"_The Lord Sar—" _

"_He __**will **__have his prize! Now take them and leave."_

_I was cold. Things were dark, but readable. A barred window on the other side of the room was the only light source. I realized I was on a stone table. I tested my arms. A shrill cry of pain escaped my chapped lips. I was bound. _Please…let me see the sun. Let me know that this…will end…one day.

"_Ahh…the spy from glorious Rivendel…" _It was him.

"_I'm not—" I tried to get a sound to form from my mouth._

"_A thief? What else then? __**What do you know?**__"_

_Flames of pain seared every part of me. _I don't know anything! Stop! Please! Please…stop…no.

_It was that moment when I snapped. I lost all sight of hope. But what good did snapping do for me. I _didn't _know anything. I was an elven messenger. Not a spy, or a thief. I wanted to save my people, and Middle Earth. And I had done just that. Now…I had to receive the punishment.

* * *

_

**_Frodo_**

I was sure my face paled as I watched Calathiel being dragged to the pitch black tent. It seemed as if every time I thought something couldn't get worse, it would.

I was in over my head; completely over my head, and much more. _What am I to do?_

I slid down the tree clumsily, landing on my back. _I can't do anything…_ I thought bitterly.I rolled myself onto my stomach, supporting myself with locked elbows. My eyes wandered to the ground. I stared at the patterns of the brown leaves, tracing their veins with my fingers. I fought the urge to jump up, yell, and run into the camp, Sting held high. I felt so useless. _What a great friend to Sam you're being._ Poor Sam…

I heard a loud rustle behind me. My head spun instantly. I grabbed Sting and pushed myself up within seconds. "Who goes there?" I questioned firmly.

* * *

**A cliff hanger again! Duh duh DUHHHHH!**

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	6. Chapter 6 Alone Again

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* * *

**_Sam_**

Patches of sunlight illuminated small sections of the black canvas of the tent, covering the cage. The light did not come through, only gave the pitch-black color, more of a grey look.

I lay on my back, head resting on a 'pillow' I made out of my crumpled waist coat. Still, it was rather uncomfortable, but now I had realized conditions were probably never going to improve. So I had better learn to live with it. Though, mind you, it was not easy.

Strider and Legolas were wide awake at the moment, sitting on either side of the bolted door. Legolas was most likely awake the whole night, Strider probably slept for two hours at the most. I, on the other hand, had seemed to pass in and out of sleep the whole night. Calathiel, who was now in the center of the cage, still remained sound asleep.

Guessing by the new patches of light, it was most likely sunrise, but it was almost impossible to tell.

I took out a wooden box out of my pocket. Lovely swirls engraved its top. I opened it slowly, praying it would still be there, and in good condition. And it was. I smiled slightly in relief. So perfect, so beautiful, just like she was. _Rosie._ The ring was crafted out of the finest material, and I made sure of that. A pretty diamond, cut and shimmering, was on the top. I hoped she'd like it, for it wasn't as beautiful as she.

I don't know why I never told anyone, it just seemed better to let sleeping dogs lie, if you will. I bet they'd find out eventually, like always. Frodo would stare at me for a moment, then grin wide. Pippin and Merry would break out into laughter, and sooner or later Frodo would join them. I would turn bright red…I seemed to do that often.

I rolled over to face the other two, stuffing the box into my back pocket again.

Suddenly Legolas's face rose sharply, his eyes were a bit wider than normal. "Some one's coming."

I felt my stomach knot. Legolas got on his feet within seconds, and began backing towards the opposite wall of the bolted door. Strider followed suit. Both stood in front, giving me a slim amount of protection, though it didn't make me feel any better.

I rolled into somewhat of a kneeling position, my back against the wall. Shadows began to form outside the tent, growing larger with each footstep. I could feel the anxiety grow by each passing moment. My face grew paler.

"Calathiel!" Strider urged in a loud whisper. I could guess Strider wanted her by us to keep her from further harm, but I could only guess you know. "Quickly, wake up—"

"No one move! Else…you're **dead."**

* * *

**_Calathiel_**

A powerful, merciless kick landed on the side of my rib cage, causing me to flip on to my back. I moaned, my face scrunching in pain. _This is only _too_ familiar…_

My eyes fluttered open just in time to see a pair of clawed hands, belonging to an orc, grab my shoulders, pinning my arms to my sides. My back was pulled off the floor. I could sense my cell-mates tense behind be at the sight of me being manhandled. The orc who was grabbing me leaned in closer, so that his face was inches away from me. The foul odor of rotten eggs, along with the appearance of his almost snake-like eyes, made me contract as much as I could. I groggily tried to blink the image away.

"I don't think she's awake!" Called an orc, somewhere in the back.

"We can easily take care of that," the one holding me replied, as he took a flask and emptied its contents into my mouth. As the red liquid traveled down my throat, I could feel it burn, eat away at my flesh. I coughed, suddenly feeling my body awaken. I had the dreadful feeling that their drink consisted of the blood of man.

"Amin feuya ten' lle …" I seethed through coughs, not having the will to speak in the common tounge.

The orc, along with his ten companions, roared with laughter. I moved my shoulders in attempt to escape his grasp. "You're lucky she-elf," hissed the monster into my ear. "If you weren't so _important_, I could've been tempted to…eat you." He ran his horribly grimy, black claws up my thigh, turning my face pink in embarrassment and anger. As they began to near my skirt, I cried out as if surrendering. His hand stopped. "Such a waste to kill such a...beautiful...thing."

"I am sure you haven't come for common socializing," I retorted quickly, trying to hide my fear. I contracted my neck further, "What do you want of me?"

"The white wizard demand's your…presence, shall we say…" he growled, pleased that he had the upper hand. More laughter echoes through the metal cage.

"A rather large escort, for just one…" I said with an edge of anger. I struggled once again, flailing my bound arms in vain.

He smiled at me menacingly. "These _wonderful_ gentlemen will be joining you momentarily m'lady. They need escorts as well, you know…" The orc beside him mocked.

With new found strength I swept my tied legs upwards, kicking the orc in a place I could get good results. Instantly he dropped me back to the metal floor, howling madly. I rolled onto my stomach and crawled towards the open hand of Legolas. I struggled to dodge the orcs coming after me. "Tua amin!" I cried to him.

A rough hand grabbed my ankle, dragging me back towards the door of the cage, blocked with orcs. I resisted, until another hand a fistful of my grabbed my hair. With a loud scream I gave up, looking up hopelessly at Sam, Aragorn, and Legolas. Aragorn made a movement to grab me, but I let my body become limp as it slid across the ground, dragged by my feet. I could tell by the look in their eyes that they wanted to help me, badly. And I'm sure they would've if they were armed or ten orcs weren't waiting for them. Sam seemed to hate seeing me suffer.

More hands grabbed me, shoving a filthy gag down my throat, and more binds around me. I began to get farther away from the three, until I was outside of the tent, still grasped by at least three sets of grimy, clawed hands. The other orcs began to file inside the cage, blocking my view of the three members of the fellowship.

_This is my fault, my fault, __**my**__ fault,_ echoed inside my hand.

Suddenly a wet strip of cloth was pulled over my face and nose. As much as I fought it, the dreaded blackness came back.

* * *

My mind returned to my bloodied, dirtied, and pained body. _How long must I endure this? _I thought bitterly. _I must have been drugged…_

I opened my eyes hesitantly, afraid of what I might see. But too my surprise, no one was insight. It seemed as if I was in the center of the camp. A small amount of fresh green grass separated me from the black tents that seemed to form a circle around my position.

As my senses began to wake, I realized I was bound again. Though this time, my wrists were tied around a wooden pole behind my back, my ankles still tied.

I turned my head slightly, suddenly a bit of white flashed. I felt wrinkled fingers touch my chin. "I'm so pleased you were able to attend, she-elf." I glared at Saruman icily, "But before we begin," he said, forcing me to look at his face, glowing with pride. "I'd like to personally…thank you. You see, without you, this wouldn't have been possible."

_Don't listen to the White Wizard. His words manipulate you. Don't listen._

"I'd like to thank you as well," I paused, "Though I can't address you, for no word can describe how horrid you are." He laughed deeply to my displeasure, though I didn't show it. He turned slowly and walked back to his tent. It seemed as if it would take forever for him to leave. Just before he disappeared behind the flap, I saw another figure emerge, around the corner. He clumsily rode a dapple gray horse. He was dressed in long robes of brown, and covered in warm furs. I could sense him eye me, before both went inside the tent.

I exhaled louder than I had intended. I shifted myself around in a full circle, assuring myself that I was completely alone. I dropped my head, looking down upon the pitch-black stone. The poison had already begun to spread, faint traces of black creeping away from its edges. It had gone about an inch away from the stone, much faster than last time.

My legs buckled, pulling me down into a squat. I clamped my eyes closed.

"Calathiel!" whispered a voice far away. I was sure no man could hear it, for the sound was too faint, only an elf could. _Stop playing with me Saruman… _I closed my mind forcefully, concentrating on the faint humming of insects. "Please! Over here! It's me!" _Leave me!_

"Who is 'me'?" I called hotly, still forcefully closing my vision.

"Frodo Baggings," he whispered. My eyelids flew open. He was in a strange place for one of only four feet tall (and a bit less). For the hobbit, sat upon a branch of a tree, hidden behind it's many leaves. I wondered how he managed to climb up there.

"Get away from here, please!" I spoke softly. "Run, or get help. Just get away from here. It's you that they want."

His face looked slightly puzzled. He most likely wondered how I knew that he had the ring. Then suddenly it turned to great concern. "But he plans to-"

"Run! We'll be alright…" I assured him, though I doubted my own words. He nodded quickly, though I could tell he was very unsure. I saw him clumsily slide down the trunk of the oak just before he disappeared into the tree line, and out of my sight.

"_But he plans to—" _His whisper replayed. _What did he plan to do?_

Suddenly, the flaps of the two smaller tents were pulled away. Several orcs came out first, as ugly and menacing as ever. They were yelling viciously back inside of the tents, smug looks across their faces. Not long after, the members of the fellowship were marched out, some in worse shape than others. The dwarf and Aragorn looked much bloodier and bruised, while Legolas seemed as clean as I saw him earlier. The hobbits, along with Sam, looked absolutely terrified, keeping their eyes on the ground, heads bent over.

I looked up at them, hoping to catch someone's eye. Though I only got a brief glance from Legolas.

My stomach tied in yet another knot. I would be surprised if one of them did not feel any hatred towards me. It was I who had gotten them into this. I should receive the punishment, yet they _all _had to endure it.

The orcs formed them into some sort of a line, facing parallel to me. The orcs stood guard, waiting for their order. It was then when Saruman, and the man in the furs, appeared.

"Welcome, _fellowship_…"


	7. Chapter 7 Flames of Fear

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* * *

Saruman slowly glided around his prey, each step seeming like a boast. They were at his mercy. One command could lead to death, and that command was near.

His devoted servant stood beside him, trembling with anticipation.

"What a successful fellowship you lot became…" he scoffed, stopping in front of the small row they were placed in. He spoke slowly, as if to make their fear grow. "I hear that a company of nine set out from Rivendel, yet only eight stand before me… well beside that she-elf filth…"

Calathiel, glared at him, her emerald eyes shining with hate mingled with fear. She tugged at her binds subconsciously, wishing she could do something. Legolas gave her a slight look, making her refrain.

"Tell me," Saruman took a forceful step towards Gandalf, holding his staff out as if it was a sword. "Where is the one ring? Who here is the ring bearer?" His voice echoed through the trees. Gandalf stared at him, then spoke quietly, "Do you take us as fools, my old _friend_?" Saruman held himself back from attacking the old wizard there on the spot. Gandalf laughed slightly, "Why would I, or any of these men, tell you?"

"I wouldn't be so sure, Gandalf Greyhame…" His white robes shining in the reflection of the sun, he strode over to Pippin, who suddenly felt much smaller. Pippin kept his head turned down, avoiding eye contact with the menacing wizard that towered over him. "A halfling, they said, carried that burden belonging to Sauron. Could it possibly…be you?" He bent down, and stared at the terrified hobbit for a second, unable to catch his eye. "Answer." Pippin, shook his head quickly, and turned his head.

Still not a word.

"Not feeling talkative…?" Saruman made a quick motion with his hand; the orc standing behind him drew his crossbow pointing the arrow right for Pippin's head. Merry jumped right to the side of his friend, his face flushed tomato red. Saruman laughed boomingly, pleasure radiating off him. "Don't…" Merry growled through clenched teeth. His eyes flashing in warning.

"Then simply tell me where, or who, the ring bearer, or the one ring is. Then maybe I'll let you last the day…" His expression loosened as he waited for a reply. Though all they did was stare at him, not believing nor trusting a single word he said.

Saruman stood upright again, and called bemused, "You trained them well Gandalf!" and moved farther along the line. Merry, though, did not leave Pippin's side.

"Ah," A wide grin spread across his face, stopping infront of Aragorn. "The _king _of Gondor, is it not?" Calathiel stared at him, though the ranger seemed so unlike a king from his appearance, it didn't seem that shocking to her. Aragorn avoided the wizards gaze as well, seeming to stare into the distance. Sam wondered what was going on inside his head.

Saruman passed him, knowing that he could not penetrate Aragorn's mind. He strode passed Sam, then Gandalf, Gimli, stopping at Boromir, who immediately tensed. "So far from your beloved city, are you…?" He murmured, fixing Boromir with a look, which Boromir could not pull away from. "You left Gondor…to fall. And with every breath you take in…it loses strength, bit by bit. Soon Gondor will crumple and burn…until it's distruction."

A bead of sweat trickled down Boromir's brow. "Don't speak to me…" he whispered harshly.

Pleased of the impression he made, he passed Legolas, then circled back to the center of the row. "Since you seem to refuse my offer…we will have to go through this the…hard way—which you know I _hate _doing…"

He brandished his staff, as if he were performing some great feat. Sudden he flicked it towards Calathiel, who was tied to the post. A flame sparked a couple inches from her feet, lighting the dry grass around her feet in a circle. Smoke began rising thickly. Calathiel coughed hard, struggling harder to no avail.

Sam gasped lightly, putting a dirtied hand over his mouth. Aragorn shifted his weight forwards, the same instant Legolas took a step forwards. Gimli and Boromir did not react however; eyes intensely watching the scene unfold. Merry and Pippin did the same.

"I personally think you should perhaps…decide quickly. I'm guessing she has only…several minutes?"

"Saruman," Gandalf commanded strongly. "This elf has nothing to do with us. Spare her, for—"

"**She **has nothing to do with your fellowship, though she has crossed **my **path…" He shouted over the rumpus. Flames began to lick the sides of Calathiel's boots, slowly climbing higher. "Don't…(cough) worry…'bout (cough)…me." She cried, her voice drowning in the smoke filled fumes rising around her.

* * *

**_Frodo_**

"No, no, no…" I muttered to myself, turning and putting my back against the tree. _Calathiel was going to die, do something! __**What can I do? Nothing, that's what…I'm a hobbit. **_It was battle between my heart, and my head, practicality against instinct. But none of it helped, for fear seemed to kill all of it; I was the one who was supposed to live. I had to go on while the others suffered, but it wasn't fair at all.

_If you let the she-elf die, the others will go next. Pippin…Merry…Sam..._I cringed at the though._**They were willing to take that risk**_**, you**_** have to live! **__Well who said you were going to die?_ _You could easily sneak in, all the orcs seem to be watching the whole thing…__**What then? **__Make a diversion! Set a tent on fire, perhaps. __**That still doesn't guarantee them living or you for the matter. **__It's worth a try, don't you think? __**Well…**_

I shuffled quickly behind a bush, so I wouldn't be seen. I fell onto my knees, my breath quickening. Then feverishly I took up two sticks and began rubbing them together franticly. _Light please! _After several minutes (which felt like several days), I was able to get a bit of smoke to rise. I blew on it lightly and it sparked. Pleased with my work, I pushed myself up, careful not to get anything too close to my small flame.

I took long strides, back into the forest. Then with the protections of the trees, I made my way behind the biggest tent of midnight black canvas.

Without great consideration, I held the budding fire to the ebony material. In less than a second, it caught the inferno, and began to burn.

I got on the tips of my toes, and peered around the tent. The fellowship seemed to stand in horror, watching fire begin to enflame around Calathiel. They were helpless; unable to save her of her fate. With her face was smudged with soot and ash, Calathiel was coughing rapidly. _The fire won't catch their attention in time at this rate! _

Darting back behind the tent, I began to pull fistfuls of dry grass from the earth, putting them on top of the flame. Still unsatisfied, I ran into the brush, searching for thick branches. In a short amount of time, my arms were laden with the branches, so I ran back to my work. The small fire had begun to eat up the side of the ten, almost to the top. It was about twice the size of me!

I tossed the branches into the roaring flame, and sprinted back to my hiding place. Praying for everything to turn out alright, I hid behind layers of thick bushes, watching, and waiting.

* * *

**_Aragorn_**

"S—s…Saruman, look!" The man Gandalf had indicated as Grima Wormtongue, pointed a short, stubby finger. I turned around too quickly, accidently pulling a neck muscle. A huge orange flame was devouring more than half of the Saruman's tent, and it looked as if its neighboring trees had caught on fire too. I didn't have even the slightest idea who had caused it.

Seizing the opportunity I caustiously looked around at the orcs guarding us. Apparently everyone was looking at the raging fire too, quite puzzled and shocked. _Maybe they wouldn't notice…_

Legolas looked over to me, and mumbled somewhat bitterly, "Gurth 'ni yrch?" nodding his head to the two orcs in front of him, who seemed quite busy looking at the fire engulfing Saruman's tent in smoke.

"Do the others…?" I questioned in a voice barely audible. He nodded quickly, lifting his slender hand. Everyone but the hobbits stared at it, bracing themselves.

_Whoosh! _Slicing the smoke filled air, his hand flew down. And that was our signal.

In a split second, I had the orc guarding me in a head lock, my arms around his neck, since my hands were bound. After strangling him, without making a sound, I skillfully took his cross bow, and dagger. Then in another second, my binds were laying cut upon the ground. The others seemed to get their ropes cut too.

"'Ey!" My head spun instantly, panic beginning to overcome me. "Get 'em!"

"Run!" I yelled franticly, shoving a distracted Merry towards the forest. _It would have to cover us, _I grimaced. Gandalf looked over to me intensely, telling me to get the others out of here.

Suddenly, a rather large orc, tackled me from behind. He pinned me down on my stomach, hissing madly. I couldn't turn my head, for the force of his grasp. I could make out bodies falling upon the ground, hurried footsteps, and lots of fire. Sounds of utter chaos filled my ears. All I could smell was smoke.

With a short scream of pain, the orc's hold on me loosened completely, and his body became limp. I was able to nudge him off me with slight difficulty. Quickly I shoved my arms under myself, and got my head up. "Le hannon," I said breathlessly. Legolas nodded looking down on me, casually holding a short cross bow he took.

Without turning around, he stabbed a thin orc from behind. "I better get my bow back..." And with that he sprinted away lightly.

I exhaled deeply, pushing myself off the dry grass. _Zing! _I side-stepped a flying arrow.

"Ai!" I horrid scream was let out behind me, one that could've only belonged to a woman.

Suddenly a wrinkled hand clasped my shoulder. I didn't flinch however, already knowing it was Gandalf.

"Do not stand around, Aragorn!" He said forcefully. "Come!" I followed him without question, at a panicked jog. Then, out of now where, Saruman appeared right before Gandalf. "Where do you think you're going, _friend_?" I halted abruptly, almost running over the two wizards. "I don't friend is appropriate any longer." Gandalf murmured, holding back his hatred.

I turned quickly, knowing that it was dangerous to be too close to a wizard duel.

"Stay…back!" Sam threatened, obviously terrified, backing away brandishing a thick stick, from a bloodthirsty monster. I drew my stolen crossbow, my arrow hitting the orc squarely in the chest. It whimpered, blood forming a pool in his torn shirt, and then he collapsed. Sam turned to me, and then clumsily sprinting to my side, dodging a couple humming arrows.

"Thanks," he puffed, his face damp with sweat. "Don't mention it," I replied tired, patting him on the back.

Another blood churning scream.

"Sam, find the others." I yelled, running off, not taking the time to see him off.

_Please be alright, don't die. _I prayed as I got nearer, my pace getting quicker, and the heat getting stronger.

Soon, smoke had blocked my vision, ash flying into my face. Saruman didn't seem to realize that he would've started a forest fire. I keeped walking, though every part of me cried out against it.

"Calathiel!" I yelled in desperation. "Where are—"I was cut off by ferocious coughing. It wasn't much, but it was enough to lead me closer.

A pit formed in my stomach as the wind came through sweeping away most of the smoke, clouding my sight. Calathiel seemed to hang from the post her hands were bound behind. Her head hung downwards, so that her hair covered her face completely, flecks of ash caught in her smoke covered waves. Orange flames hungrily licked her, searing her in burning pain. The fire was almost at her waist now. It would be a miracle if she lived at all.

I darted behind her, taking the blunt dagger I managed to steal, and hacking into her binds. The flames made an effort to burn me, though I stood far enough so that they could not reach me. After several panicked minutes, I managed to break through. Without any hesitation, I grabbed the feather-light elf, my arms under her knees, and her upper back. Then I ran. Ran harder than I had ever remembered running.

* * *

The fellowship safely within the safety of the forest, but they did not stop there. "Make for Celebdil! Make haste! Quickly now!"

* * *

**Smokey the bear isn't very happy with Saruman...lol (sorry just had to throw that out there!) PLEASE comment! Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8 Safe for the Moment

**My, my, my...are we on chapter 8 already? Boy how time flies!  
**

**For my lovely elvish, please thank **

**WARNING: This chapter contains romance, and love. If you hate either one, you can skip the italics at the end, and please don't comment rudely about it! Thanks folks! Enjoy!**

**All LOTR stuff belongs to J.R.R Tolkien. I don't own any of it! Calathiel and the new plot, on the other hand, happen to be my idea.  
**

* * *

**_Calathiel_**

I opened my eyes in an instant. Silence greeted me, somewhat to my surprise.

I was in a soft, warm canopy bed with sheets of white. A small oak table, along with a matching chair sat beside me. On top of the small table was a bowl filled with clear water, a damp cloth, several glass containers housing herbs and liquids, and a bouquet of flowers. The walls around me were painted a beautiful shade of grey-purple, with intricate designs of carved branches up the sides. On each wall was a window, framed in a thin, light brown wood. They were all left completely open, besides a thin, transparent, purple cloth that covered half the window. It fluttered calmly, letting the breeze sweep the ends of its material.

I lifted the light comforter less than an inch, gazing down at myself. I seemed to be wearing a somewhat large, white dressing gown. The sleeves were slit on the top, so that they draped off my arms. Both my forearms were wrapped in bandages, along with my torso; bandages covering my chest, were the stone was, down to my waist.

I suddenly felt a wave of embarrassment, realizing that someone must have seen me naked if I were in different clothes. My face turned a light shade of pink.

After about an hour, I decided I couldn't sit around any longer, not knowing, and all alone. I pulled the covers to the side, exposing the rest of my dressing gown, wraps legs, and my bare feet. I began to lift my back up, when I felt burning pain, bringing me back down upon the fluffy feather pillows. I cringed.

"You're awake?"

I turned my head towards the door. Aragorn was leaning lazily upon its frame, his arms and legs crossed. He wore friendly smirk, grey eyes staring at me.

"I should think so…" I replied. "The pain seems real enough," I added, propping my elbow underneath my body. Aragorn moved towards the side of the bed quietly, pulling the chair over, and seating himself upon its surface. "It's what happens when one wakes up from a near death experience." He smiled grimly, "But for now, try to get some rest."

I slid my elbow from under my weight, slowly dropping my upper back on to the mattress of the bed. Aragorn took the cloth and soaked it in the bowl of water. I kept my eyes on the ceiling, "What happened, exactly…? I just remember, fire…and smoke."

"Well you are correct with the fire and that smoke." He handed me the wet cloth, which I rested upon my forehead, ignoring the water droplet falling down the side of my eye. "Saruman," he continued, "He attempted burning you at the stake in order to force information out of the fellowship and myself. I believe you went out cold. After that Frodo—"

"Is he here?" I cut in, remembering pushing him into the brush in order to hide him from Saruman's orcs.

"Oh, you know him?" He questioned, turning to face me on the chair. I nodded. "Yes, yes, thankfully he was just able to find us before we ran off. If it wasn't for him, I believe we all wouldn't be here…He set Saruman's main tent aflame, distracting everyone. It gave the rest of us enough time to…escape. Gandalf then took us through the pass of Celebdil, having the intention of getting us here, Lothlórien." I wondered who carried me the whole way, but didn't say anything.

"The heart of elvendom on earth…" I whispered, settling down into the nest of sheets. "So that explains the…" I motioned to my wrapped arms.

"Yes, you got severely burned. The fire was caused by magic, making it unnatural. I believe if it was a true fire you wouldn't have suffered the same effects. Maybe if you were in better condition to start with, too." He stared down at his folded hands, "I predict a full recovery within two to four days, but no one is really sure with the stone in all."

"Four days?" I asked slightly alarmed. Then suddenly something hit me like a wave. "Last night was the full moon, was it not?" I questioned quickly.

Aragorn gave me a slight questioning look, and then replied very simply, "Yes."

I rolled on the bed so that my back was now facing him. The cloth slid off my forehead landing somewhere on the floor. A tear formed in my eye, something that had never happened before. _I shall not cry, _I told myself, but it did no good.

"What is it?" He asked sympathetically, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"We were supposed to leave…" I murmured faintly, my voice an octave higher than normal.

"Pardon?"

I turned over to face him, the tear already sliding down my cheek bone. "Him… and I, to the Undying Lands. He must've left _without_…me. Gone…" My voice cracked.

Staring at his grey eyes, I started to see his sympathy turn to empathy. Suddenly, he drew back his hand on my shoulder and stuck it under his shirt, pulling out a beautiful Evenstar pendant on a shining silver chain. I stared at him, slowly understanding. _Will anyone ever know everything about this man?_

"So that means…you're in love with an elf... correct?" I asked shyly. He nodded slightly. "I want her to take the ship Valinor, to join her people. But she refuses. Slowly the light of the Evenstar will leave her…"

Suddenly the room was enveloped in silence. I had no idea how to react, much less speak of this.

Aragorn turned his chair back to the small bedside table, along with his focus. He began picking up different glass containers. I turned my gaze to the closest window, trying to catch a sight of anything outside.

"Ack!" I turned my head sharply, only to feel the same burning on my neck. One of the glass bottles lay on its side; the contents it once held creating a flowing river on the bedside table, seeping into the bouquet of flowers, until it met the tables end, then it plummeted down to the floor. "Sorry…" He murmured, trying to brush the rest of the liquid off the bedside table with the side of his hand. "Oh," He noticed the flowers and handed them to me. "Courtesy of Lady Galadriel."

I took them from his hand, examining the beautiful petals of each flower, barely even believing I was actually holding them. Then a golden ribbon caught my eye. I felt its fibers with the tip of my index finger, finding a scrap of clean parchment tied at its end.

_My wishes of recovery, Calathiel of Mirkwood._ _I shall be visiting you shortly after you awake. For now, please rest and stay in bed; your wounds are much deeper and graver than they seem.__You know of what I speak. _ _-Galadriel _

"Shortly meaning…?" I questioned, looking back up at Aragorn.

"Meaning soon, I believe...but you can never tell." he got up from the chair, lazily sliding it back to the position it was originally in.

I attempted getting into an upright position, but then decided it was a stupid idea at the moment. "So…you're leaving me?"

"For the moment," he said turning his back and making for the door.

_They can't just leave me here, can they?_ Subconsciously I outstretched a hand."So the fellowship…they're going to Mordor…without me?"

He paused, his back still turned to me. "That is yet to be decided…"

I sighed; everything seemed to be out of my control.

"For now," he turned back to me, gesturing towards the only filled glass bottle on the bedside table. "Drink that, it should help with the pain. I bet someone will be in with food in a matter of minutes, if not, I'll send for someone. Don't be surprised if you get any visitors." He smiled lightly to himself. "There are quite a few who are concerned about your well being." I put on a half smile, but then my next thought made it disappear.

"You _will _tell me when a decision is made, right?" I asked tentatively. He nodded in reply, than closed the door behind him.

I folded my arms, staring at the door. I didn't appreciate being left behind, appreciate being an understatement. It didn't help that I was to remain in bed for at least two days, awaiting the fellowship's decision.

Maybe if they decided to leave without me, I'd be able to go home, back where I belonged. Though I couldn't help but feel drawn to their quest. Like I needed to help them, since I already had a taste of their doomed venture. After all they _did _help me; I supposed I was in their debt.

I waited several more minutes, finally coming to the conclusion that Aragorn wasn't going to come back. I turned my attention to the glass bottle holding the medicine he had mixed.

I lifted it carefully, holding it before my eyes. I examined it closely, staring at its transparent yellow-orange liquid. Lowering it, I pulled out the stopper with more difficulty than normal, and placed it on the bedside table. I held the liquid under my nose. It smelled of various herbs mixed with the smell of lemon. _I hope this helps. _And with that I opened my mouth, pouring the ice cold liquid down my throat.

It didn't taste good, nor horrible, but did it really matter? The only good it seemed to do at the moment was cause my throat and mouth to seem quite less dryer. I tried to remember the last time I had anything to drink, and decided it was at least a moon ago.

They starved me of thirst and hunger in Isengard, ignoring the four times orcs shoved their vile concoction down my throat. I believe I got one meal during the three months I was there: rock hard, spoiled tack bread. But I ate it, none the less.

When one is captured, tortured, or find that their life is in much danger; a different side of him comes out. The side of him that is more like an animal, willing to do anything to survive. Sometimes even tear others down. They also seem to lose a sense of time. One could blame that on pain. It seems to slur everything, and if it is great enough, num one's emotions and general sense.

I shuttered, pushing those haunting thoughts away. I was safe now, for the moment. There was no sense in reminding myself of those terrible months, weeks, days, minutes, or seconds.

I pulled the cover sheet up to my chin, closing my eyes slowly. I hadn't seemed to notice how tired I was—well, until now…

* * *

_The lake shimmered with the light of the full moon. Wind danced upon its surface, creating abstract swirls, and circles. It twirled into the gaps between the thick leaves of the twisted and gnarled branches of __Bellethiel, the beautiful elm tree which I had known my whole life._

_I slid off my thin, and simple brown flats, and put my bare feet upon the slightly damp ground. __I loved the feeling of the earth beneath my feet. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the crisp smell of the fresh air on this perfect midsummer's night. _

_I lifted my right foot first, putting it in the lowest foot hold upon the thick roots of Bellethiel, then my left foot upon the slight dent in her thick trunk. Grasping the lowest branch, the only one I could reach, I pulled myself up. In this same manner, I climbed higher and higher, peering between the leaves in search of the moon._

"_Suilaid, Calathiel. Manen nalyë?"_

"_Im maer," I smiled to myself, hooking my knees around the branch I was currently on, then swinging backwards so that I was completely upside-down, facing him. "Im gelir ceni ad lín…" I spoke faintly, staring at his humbling chestnut eyes. _

_He lifted an arm as if to touch me, I playfully dodged it. "Tolo!" I teased, climbing higher into the braches. Almost barely, I heard him coming behind me._

_I made my way to my favorite spot; A thick branch breaking away from the rest. It was very sturdy without any support. Underneath was the lake, and above, a clear view to the sky. No sooner had I began to rest upon the branch, did I feel his arms around my shoulders. I leaned against him, resting my head on his chest._

"_Le no an-uir nîn?" He whispered into my ear gently, his breath lightly tickling my skin._

_I closed my eyes and melted into his soft hold. "Mae," Though I was sure he already knew the answer._

_We sat there, not moving at all. Only breathing, and enjoying each other's presence. Then suddenly, he pulled away. I turned around to face him, and he held my hands. _

"_Imladris?" he murmured, a sad smile etched on his perfect face. I knew he was concerned about me venturing out into the dangerous world, but it was my duty, my first real one. I nodded, looking down at the shining mirror of water, "Goheno nin…"_

_He cupped my face with my hands suddenly, locking eyes with me. "Im gelir an le." He assured me. I immediately lunged forwards, wrapping him in a warm embrace, which he gladly accepted. _

" _Man lû vin achenitham?" I said into his comforting shoulder._

_He sighed in slight defeat and admitted, "I do not know…"_

"_Calathiel!" Rang a new voice, destroying the peaceful silence._

_I slid out from his embrace, looking back towards the shore. Lightly I shifted my weight, preparing to stand up upon the branch, when suddenly I felt his lips against mine. _

"_Calathiel! Tolo hi!"_

_I broke away, torn, knowing I had to go. He reached a hand for me as I sprung onto my feet again. I began walking, when I felt his hand resting on my shoulder. "No veren," he whispered. I nodded quickly. "Namárië," I cried as I began walking back to the trunk of the tree, climbing down foot after foot, hand after hand._

_Just before I leaped back onto the familiar earth, I heard a faint whisper carried by the wind. I was unable to determine whether it was real or just my imagination. But I was sure it said: "Le melon, Calathiel."

* * *

_**(Awww!) Lol jk! **

**Probably not one of my best chapters...but this will become important as the story goes on. (Not meaning more lovey dovey stuff, but you'll have to see!)**

**Again please comment/review ect. Please tell me what you want to happen next, what you liked, and if I was ok writing romance stuff. I can't promise that I'll do the things you recommend, but I will positively consider each and everyone! Thanks in advance!  
**


	9. Chapter 9 The Only Way

**I present to you...Chapter 9! Ta da!**** Hope you all enjoy it!**

**Please, PLEASE, PLEASE, comment! It's simple and easy, AND makes me really happy!**

**All LOTR stuff belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, not me. But Calathiel and new plot twist are MY idea! **

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

"I fear that there was something left unsaid about your terrible three months of torture… something that was a torture within its self…"

I was suddenly interrupted of my thoughts. My eyes flew open, my senses perked up. I was greeted by complete darkness. Then I suddenly began to comprehend what the voice said. My stomach churned. _How did they know? They couldn't know._

"A group of four, no more…no less."

I sat up, ignoring the biting pain on my back that wouldn't stop. I quickly groped for the curtain, feeling quite stupid. In my panic, I accidently pulled down the whole curtain, causing it to land with the rod that connected it to the bed. The clang made my ears ring.

Galadriel stared at me, her wide eyes gazing, her lips slightly parted. She wore a beautiful lace gown, covered with tiny, twinkling, white crystals. A simple silver band was placed around her head. I could not read her face, like most elves. That was the one only thing I disliked about my people; you could never tell what they were thinking, or how they felt. Not even a single hint.

I returned her gaze, trying to slow my heart beat. "I apologize, your Grace." I spoke faintly, my eyes darting towards the fallen rod and cloth, "It is an honor to finally meet you." I bowed my head as far as I could, and then added, "Though our meeting would be more pleasant if I was in better condition."

"Agreed," she turned her head towards the window she was seated next to. Her white gown sparkled in the brilliant light of the dawn. I knew what she wanted me to say.

"I did not lie," I explained, looking down towards the floor. "The wound in my heart had not fully healed…I couldn't speak of it then. It wouldn't have made the tiniest difference even if I did. And still, I do not feel well enough to be speaking of the matter."

Galadriel turned her head back to me; her eyes seemed to show the slightest bit of understanding. "Some blows to the heart," she said, "never do heal. But we must go on, for even if we don't, the world around us will continue to change." This time she kept her eyes on me, waiting. I felt my lower lip tremble.

_It's true, _I swallowed hard, holding back tears. I had been keeping the storm of emotion inside of me for too long, growing everyday; for it was now banging its fists, yelling. I needed to let it out. And if I didn't, it was strong enough that it would explode on its own. "My...f-father was...one of the elves with me...the rest were friends of old..." I managed to say. "I-I lost all...my companions while running through the tower. One I was caught...they, they killed them...before my very eyes. One by one...finally ending with-" I couldn't speak anymore. My throat felt incredibly dry, and my eyes barely kept the tears back.

Galadriel sat down upon the edge of my bed. "Even for an elf," she spoke gently, "I find you wiser beyond your years...your experience has shown you much of the horrors in our world that most disregard. You know what true fear is... You also seem, more human than most elves I've met. Your emotions are a little easier to recognize."  
I wiped my eyes on the corner of a bed sheet, shaking off my feeling of overcome emotion. I couldn't change anything, so I guessed it was better not to sit and weep about it.

I lifted my head, returning Galadriel's gaze. Then suddenly my eyes darted to the bedside table. A large rectangular plate held a full loaf of bread that gave off small waves of steam. A slice of cheese lay next to it, and in a small bowl on the side was a mix of fresh blueberries and strawberries covered in sugar.

"Please, eat," Galadriel laughed slightly. I nodded and smiled taking no hesitation to picking up a strawberry lightly sprinkled with sugar.

After swallowing I asked the question that had been on my mind since my arrival, "So has there been a decision about whether or not I am to accompany the fellowship to Mordor?"

"Why do you seem so eager to continue on with them?" she asked in response.

"Well," I thought hard, "My entire family has been killed…there is nothing left for me in Mirkwood, only memories and loneliness."

"What of your love?"

_She must have looked into your mind, _I thought. "He has gone," I spoke hollowly; "He is now with his kin upon the shore of Valinor."

"And you have no desire to join him there?"

"I do not know…" I admitted, "We planned to go together, but… " I felt so lost. I truly had no place to go to, no one to turn to. _But if you _did _go to Valinor, you'd be with him…"_

"No." Galadriel said on the verge of a yell, her sudden increase in volume made me turn my head. Her face suddenly looked quite grim, and a shade paler. She lifted her first finger, pointing at my chest. "Do not even dare to bring that horrible _thing _to the shores of Valinor!" She stopped herself, closing her eyes and taking deep inhales of breath. I watched unsure. In another seconds, her eyes were open. She spoke quite calmly, "It must be destroyed."

"If I could, I surely would," I said exasperated, "I tried, nothing—"

"The only way you can destroy the stone, full of poison that can kill the soul, is with the shards of Narsil. It has defeated evil such as concealed inside the stone, so it can certainly do it again. The moment the ring touches the flames of Mount Doom, you must plunge it into the stone."

I put my hand on top of the bandages that covered the surface where the stone would be. "What if I should be a moment too soon or too late?"

"Then," Galadriel lowered her voice, "the shards of Narsil will plunge through the stone, and into you."

I swallowed hard once again, looking down upon my chest, and then suddenly, something occurred to me. I dug my hand under the bandages and pulled them away, somewhat franticly. _No…no,no! _The stone was pitch-black once again.

"Gandalf tried to stop the poisoning as he did before," Galadriel said grimly. "Though it would not work this time. It seemed as if Saruman had made it like that…permanently."

"How much time do I have?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Long enough…" she murmured, shifting her gaze from me to the floor. "So I suggested for you," She continued slightly lighter, "that you accompany the fellowship. Though it shall be your decision whether you go or not."

_Do I really have a choice? _I thought pessimistically, _Well I did get my wish… _

"If you do decide to go," Galadriel stood up from the bed and begun to walk towards the slightly open door. Her steps made her seem as if she was floating. "I see that you will become a key part in the survival of Middle-Earth. There is many a treacherous situation before you. Though…you will provide light to where there is dark…."

"How long do I have to decide?" I murmured. I leaned back, my head back upon the fluffy down pillows.

"Until the moon rises." She stopped at the door, and turned her head around to face mine. "I pray for your quick recovery, Calathiel of Mirkwood. Make a wise choice…"

Aragorn and Legolas walked at a brisk pace, to the displeasure of the hobbits, which were barely able to keep up with him. Though enough time had passed in order for them all to recover, but that didn't mean they were happy to walk so quickly, or jog for the matter.

* * *

Sam had managed to escape the situation of the last two days without any serious injury. He had numerous cuts and bruises along his arms, but that was it. Pippin was in the same condition. Merry, on the other hand, had a gash on his upper left arm from running too close to an orc's blade during the short battle before their escape. Both were all three were left with dreadful marks left by the cord tied around his wrists. Frodo seemed to be the least affected since he was absent during the battle, though the fire had slightly burned the soles of his feet.

Aragorn along with Legolas showed no sign of any fighting injuries. They just continued walking, minds set forward, concealed in thought.

"We there yet, Strider?" yelled Pippin bringing up the rear of their small line.

Aragorn looked back, a slight smirk upon his face, only too reminded of their travels from Bree to Rivendel. Frodo had to smile too, thinking the same thoughts.

"Will you ever stop complaining?" Sam thought out loud, though he already knew the answer.

Suddenly they stopped upon the winding stairs that circled upon a massive tree. Before them was a door with a golden colored knob in the shape of a thin swirl. Aragorn pressed his ear to the light colored wood, and listened for a couple of seconds. Satisfied, he pulled away and put his hand on the door knob. "Come, gentlemen," he said rather hushed, pushing the door open. The hobbits exchanged glances before following.

The room was bathed in the soft glowing light of the moon, that was let in from the three windows on the other three walls of the room. On the far side of the room lay a canopy bed. On either of its sides were small square tables, holding candles that gave off an unusual white light.

On the canopy bed sat Calathiel, whose features only looked lovelier in the light of the moon. Though she still had her numerous scars, and bruises, she looked much cleaner then when they first had met her. Many of her injuries had disappeared, though all could still tell she was on the mend.

She held a simple comb, slowly stroking it through her tangled mane of long raven hair that curled ever so slightly at the tips. She was dressed in a simple royal blue gown, with a silver bands around her waist, upper arms, and the square collar of the dress. After the silver band on the sleeve of her dress, the cloth hung from her arm as if draped, then tied around her wrist. The top of the gown was a light blue, then after the silver band, it turned back to the royal blue.

As the door opened, the light it let in shone upon her face, illuminating her fiery green eyes. Her lips parted slightly. "Im gelir ceni ad lín, Aragorn," she said, pausing from combing her hair, hints of a smile playing upon her face. He nodded, and then turned his head to look behind him.

Clearing his voice he spoke, "I hope you wouldn't mind a couple visitors…"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, setting down the comb. "Please come in!"

* * *

"So you're coming along with us to Mordor?" Legolas confirmed. Calathiel nodded, somewhat pleased with herself.

"But…but you—you can't." said Frodo suddenly, taking a step forwards. Everyone's heads turned in unison to look at him.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam questioned quietly. Calathiel stared at him, waiting for a response.

"Don't you understand?" Frodo asked his eyes wide with concern. "We aren't ment to...survive on this quest… You're putting down your life, that is already in peril, in further danger by joining us on—"

Aragorn put his hand on his shoulder, causing him to stop. "What he means," Aragorn said, "Is that he doesn't—well, we don't want you to have to sacrifice your life for this cause when you can be off back to your home, and your family."

At the sound of 'family', Calathiel immediately turned her head away. _Do not cry once again. _"Is that why you all came?" She questioned faintly, bringing her head up once again. She smiled weakly when they reluctantly nodded. "I appreciate your concern," she said, "but sadly, I am able to say that I don't really have anything to…well miss."

"Oh, come now," Sam exclaimed, "I'm sure your family is worrying 'bout you terribly, since they haven't heard from you in...well over three months now!" "They're dead," she whispered faintly, her raven mane covering her face. Silence crashed upon the room like a wave upon the sand.

"I-I'm really sorry...m'lady...I had no idea..." He said full of sympathy. She nodded quickly, and brought her head up once again, face hiding all emotion.

"In order to destroy this," She said as she put her hand on her chest.

"It's still black?" questioned Merry.

"Yes," she responded, "and now it can't be stopped, thanks to Saruman. As I was saying, in order to get rid of this, I must stab it with the shards of Narsil, the moment the ring is destroyed...So in other words...I don't really have a choice."

The silence returned, as the visitors were filled with understanding.

"Well I hope you recover quickly," spoke Legolas, "We leave in two days time."

* * *

**Sorry it was a bit of a boring chapter. **

**Remember please comment!  
**


	10. Chapter 10 Of Swords and of Ravens

**Notes: All I can say is, enjoy! And PLEASE comment!**

**Disclaimer: All LOTR stuff belongs to J R R Tolkien, not me!  
**

* * *

_**Sam**_

The bright orange fire I had been tending to, for some time now, was crackling away. Quick flashes of vibrant yellow sparks hopped in and out of sight, while the burning logs began to turn grey with ash. The smaller flames flickered around the edges of the larger ones, sort of like a dance.

I lazily tossed more kindling to the flame, feeding it in hoped that it would grow larger. Though if things continued to keep up the way they were going, it would take yet another hour, which I certainly did not have enough patience for.

A gust of wind blew lightly, bringing a chill with it as it came. I pulled the lovely cloak the Lady Galadriel gave to me, tighter around my shoulders.

It had been at least a week since we had left Lothlorien. I was positively sure that we were somewhere in between there and Gondor, but exactly where... well I didn't have the slightest idea. It wasn't like any one said, "Look here, Samwise Gamgee, here's Middle Earth, and there's where we are." Nope. I just had to guess on my own. But I really didn't mind.

_Cling! Clash! Cling!_

I felt my body tense at the sound. But then immediately loosened, chuckling silently to myself. _They've been doing that since we set up camp, Sam! _Though every time I still managed to scare myself.

"Good. Very good…you're learning fast. Next time remember to look up from your footing a bit more. Now…again! " _Crash, Clang! _"Like this?" _Swoosh! Cling! _"Up a bit more…Stop! Good."

_That's enough fire-tending for me, thank you! Besides, what's the point of it if everyone is sitting on the other side of the hill! _I set down the long stick I used to poke at the embers, and got off of my knees. Quickly I made my way to the over the small green hill where Mr. Frodo, Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, and Boromir sat on its side, slowly finishing the remains of the night's dinner (that I cooked by myself).

Calathiel stood at the foot of the hill, her back turned to her audience. She held the beautiful sword that the Lady Galadriel had given to her. Its blade was a pearly white color, at the top near the hilt, fine ridges were cut along its side. Little intricate black lines and triangles went down the middle. Its hilt was soft, maple brown, with silver engravings of vines creeping up its sides. All in all, I thought it was a very good match for our new member, unlike me and my gift elven rope.

Throughout the last couple days of traveling, Calathiel had easily found her way into our fellowship. She had a very unique personality; quite pleasant, yet realistic. But if you rubbed her the wrong way, she would snap right back at you like an angry tigress. And mind you, you shouldn't rub her the wrong way, for she could shoot with a bow and arrow almost as well as Legolas. Yes, unlike most women I knew, (which were almost none) she was able to hold her own very well.

I remember quite well when Gimli made a quite offensive remark about women during the afternoon march. Well by the time she was done talking to him (in front of the whole fellowship, which was fairly amusing) he immediately apologized and didn't speak for the rest of the day.

During many of the previous marches, (we really just walk) she would play the pretty little tin whistle that was also given to her by the Lady of Lothlorien. It certainly lightened the mood, and that's without saying too much. Almost every time when she'd play it, Legolas would join her, singing. Then Gandalf would join, then Strider. And if it was a song I knew, which rarely happened, since they were all in elvish, I'd sing too along with everyone else. And in those four minutes, I might be lucky enough to forget about the ring.

Just the other day, Strider offered her lessons on how to use her new sword. She accepted them, the she slightly hesitating, saying, "Thank you. I'd enjoy that, though you must know, I do not intend on killing anything; Orc, goblin, troll, anything."

Her lesson had been going on since we set up camp, which was just about as the sun began to set. By the time the moon begun to climb into the sky, everyone disappeared to the other side of the hill—well except me, and Gimli, who had fallen asleep while I was working on the fire.

I took my place next to Mr. Frodo, who looked up at me and smiled, "Did you finally get that fire to work?" I nodded. "Yeah, and it was about time…what did I miss?" He turned his head back towards the foot of the hill. "Not too much. Legolas is assisting now."

Calathiel threw her sword between her wrapped hands. Bouncing in her position, readying to strike. Her white skirt (which had been repaired by the magic of the elves, along with the rest of the clothing we found her with, though the elves gave her a white blouse to put under her bodice, which she slit the sleeves on.) swayed gently in the breeze, synchronized with her raven mane.

Facing us was Aragorn and Legolas, who each held swords. They were about two yards away from Calathiel.

"Actually try this time," she said, I could hear the smile in her voice. Aragorn gave her a stern look, "We don't want to hurt you…" "If you do we can stop for the night." She reasoned. He sighed in surrender, taking up his sword, and getting into his stance. Legolas did the same. "Ready?" he called, "We are going to try this time." I noticed her tighten her grip on her sword.

"Now!"

_**

* * *

Aragorn**_

I pulled my sword backwards towards my left, giving it momentum. Then in a split second, I hurled it to the right, aiming the blow for Calathiel's side. Skillfully she held her blade in a slant, blocking my sword from hitting its mark. Before I could blink, Legolas swung his blade towards her, causing Calathiel to fall to her knees, barely avoiding the blade which would've landed on her neck. She hopped up lightly, and made a try for Legolas's arm, receiving a slight cheer from our audience. He sidestepped it easily, and then looked over at me, allowing me to make my next move.

I waited, slowly taking large steps to the side. Calathiel did the same, eyes narrowed in concentration. We, along with Legolas, began to form somewhat of a circle. "Whenever you're ready…" Calathiel smirked jokingly. Thrusting her sword forwards towards my stomach. I blocked it, my blade making a loud clash of metal meeting metal. Without missing a beat, I did the same. She took a step back, the point only inches away from her.

She paused, looking down at the sword. Then suddenly a smile came over her face. She took her free hand, grabbed the hilt of my sword, and pulled it with a surprising amount of force. I stumbled over my own feet, hearing Legolas's light laughter in the back mingled with cheers and clapping from behind me. She pretended to drive her sword into my chest. Then her head turned sharply. She dodged a sudden blow from Legolas, accidently dropping her sword. Legolas picked it up, and began to move towards her. I attempted to go after her too, when Legolas whispered to me, "Your dead remember?" Then continued to move on. Pippin laughed loudly.

I watched as Calathiel edged backwards, facing Legolas who approached her with two swords. Her eyes darted in all directions, looking for any possible escape. "Look over there!" she exclaimed, extending her arm and pointing her finger in the direction of above his head. Without any second thoughts, she dropped to her hands and knees, and then somersaulted through Legolas's legs. She ran up to me and took my sword out of my hands. "Sorry," she said, "But you _are _dead." I chuckled quietly as she turned on her heels to face Legolas.

"What a pity…" Gandalf grinned, puffing a ring of smoke from his lit pipe. He received quiet laughs from the rest of the fellowship who were watching.

I cleared my throat. "Well…?" I ventured with a half smile, causing both Legolas and Calathiel to freeze. "Can I still instruct?" Legolas stared at me, "You're—""Yes I know that. But for learning purposes?" I crossed my arms. He looked down, considering. He turned his face upwards again; though the rest of his body was frozen in the stance I stopped him in. "Fine."

Calathiel began to quickly approach him, raising my sword above her head. "You have to be extra alert with an enemy with two swords," I reminded her, "Stay light on your feet." She picked up her pace as she neared him.

Suddenly a loud roll of thunder echoed across the sky. Everyone turned their heads towards the sky. Suddenly my ears will filled with the sound of a rush of air. Then a flash of paled light, followed by lots and lots of water. The tiny droplets fell like arrows, stinging any exposed skin, and drenching my clothing. I shuddered as the loud crash of thunder came again.

Calathiel lowered my sword, and stepped backwards rocking on the balls of her feet. She squinted slightly, to keep the rain drops from hitting her eyes, peering up at the sky. She lowered her head back to its normal position, and then staggered backwards. She let go of my sword clumsily in the process, making an echoing clatter.

Gandalf stood up, eyes on her. Everyone else began realize it too, though they all were a minute too late. They seemed to unsure about the situation to do anything about it, though even if they did, I'm sure nothing would've helped.

Calathiel's breath began to shorten, her face began to pale. Her bottom lip quivered as she spastically put her hand upon her chest that heaved up and down. Without looking down, she fumbled with the ties of her bodice, but eventually got the top half open. She dug her hand into her layers of clothing, when suddenly she broke the trance.

With a small thud, she collapsed onto the ground, limbs tangled within each other.

I walked over to her in long strides, pulling up my hood. Everyone followed suit; all but the hobbits, which were now standing on the side of the hill. I could hear Frodo mutter, "It's happening again," From behind me somewhere.

I bent down on her left, and gently rolled her onto her back. "Can you do anything this time?" I asked quickly to Gandalf, who stood behind me, deep in thought. "Saruman has done something to the stone that makes in almost indestructible. I cannot stop it, even if I tried. I might be able to slow it… but it could take hours, and we need to get out of this storm."

Legolas and Boromir came around the other side, and squatted down on her right. Putting a hand above his forehead to block out the rain, Boromir said, "There's no place to hide! And the storm is getting closer!" He turned his head from side to side, checking his statement. "The trees could work," Legolas mentioned, "But they probably will get struck by the lightning… I'm guessing that would be worse."

Gandalf turned around and yelled to the group of sopping wet hobbits, "Get the swords into their sheaths! We don' want them to rust, now do we?" "Is she alright?" Frodo called back as the others scrambled and slid down the now muddy hill. Gandalf paused, and then turned back to me, not wanting to reply to his question. "So shall we get dry and get burnt, or stay wet in the middle of a storm?" I asked with a sarcastic, but urgent tone.

"Who said we were to get burnt?" Boromir asked, "We might not—""But we still might!" Gandalf boomed. "We can't take the risk!"

"_Two ravens…one fish…" _Calathiel murmured, her eyes wide open, staring far into the distance.

Lightning flashed. All of us shut up, and stared at her in shock. The hobbits ran up behind us. "What's going—""Shut up!" I hissed, causing them to look closer.

"_Both need the fish…only one can have it…one shall live, the other shall…die…Sacrifice, pain, and a path now diverged with a choice…" _She clamped her eyes shut, and started to shake. _"If you are t-to make the…wrong choice…not only shall they die…but an entire race…" _Thunder rolled twice as loud as the last time, bringing extremely strong winds. She froze between breaths, lips poised as if to speak. Then with a loud exhale, her face went from pale, to very red. She lowered closer to the ground.

I pulled my right glove off, feeling the water that gathered inside of it drip onto the ground. I felt her forehead, my face growing grim, "She's burning." I turned my face upwards to look at a confused Gandalf. "Never have I seen something as this…never." He spoke with his brow furrowed.

Suddenly I was aware of another nearby presence. A horse whinnied not but a couple yards away. I blinked as if to awaken my senses before springing back onto my feet.

A silhouette of two riders on a horse came into view. I began to step closer and in the process, took my sword from a completely shocked Merry. I could hear Boromir and Gandalf behind me. "Excuse me," I shouted, only feet away. "Who are you?"

"Please," one of them said with exhaustion and pain weighing down on his deep voice. "We have been traveling for a week's…" "We don't have anything to offer you!" Boromir exclaimed. Calathiel screamed in the distance. The rider that was speaking looked around. "What was that?" "Never mind it," Gandalf said sternly. "We ourselves are going through troubles—"

"Do you have…food?" He asked quickly, "We have been starving for the last two days!" "Who are you?" I repeated, my grip tightening on my sword.

"I am Eomer, of Rohan. And with me is my sister, Eowyn."

* * *

**GASP! Jk! Please comment! PLEASE, PLEASE! I cannot emphasis how happy it makes me, and how much it improves my writing! I really would appreciate some plot suggestions too! Thanks!  
**


	11. Chapter 11 The Two Riders of Rohan

**Notes: I'm so happy I got this one up fast! And even better, it's the longest one yet! Hope you like it, AND COMMENT!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any LOTR stuff, all of it is J. R. R. Tolkiens! **

**Enjoy!  
**

_**

* * *

Merry**_

After around two hours, the storm along with the rain, thinned, then disappeared. It left the sky clear, except for a couple wisps of cloud. The moon shone brightly, giving off a faint glow, along with assistance from the little stars that framed it in the sky.

Calathiel had been treated by Aragorn, and I heard that now her temperature has gone down quite a bit. She wasn't well enough to walk around, but she was awake. Her back was propped up against the side of an old cedar tree, tucked farther into the other trees. The rest of her was buried in the collection of thin blankets we had. She remained quiet, absently pulling at the strings on her bracers.

Sam's fire rose steadily, drying our drenched clothing, and bringing warmth gradually; eating away at the last moments of darkness. The rest of us sat in a circle facing the man, named Eomer, who had come during the storm, along with his sister, Eowyn. They quietly, but gratefully ate the lembas bread we gave them.

Something didn't seem right about them. _I _personally didn't feel it was right to give them our food, in return for nothing. Though it wasn't my descision.

In the light of the fire, I could make them out somewhat clearer than earlier. Eomer wore a bloodied shirt of chainmail under a worn and dirtied tunic of red, stitched with gold. His long trousers of brown went into his black leather boots. Before he sat down, he set down his wooden shield and spear, though he still had his curved knife and sword tied to his belt. He had a rough exterior, complete with long dirty blonde hair, and a short and scruffy beard; both clearly unkempt.

His sister, Eowyn, appeared somewhat differently. Though her face was smudged with dirt, she was quite fair. She had long golden hair that reached her back, which draped in front of her face. A long maroon dress hung from her body, torn and the edges, and stained with mud and grass.

I couldn't help but wonder greatly why they were in this state, but my suspicion kept me quiet. I'm sure everyone was quite curious too, to tell the truth. Something horrible must've happened, but that didn't mean we could trust them. I bet he would kill us while we were sleeping, or slip poison into our water.

Gandalf coughed loudly, causing the two from Rohan to look up from there meal. "What tidings from Rohan?" He asked, not meaning for common conversation. Eomer turned to his sister, who widened her grey eyes and motioned with her head towards us. "It's hard to imagine..." Eomer replied gruffly. "Well after running into Saruman, I'm sure we can," Boromir grimaced.

Eowyn's head turned sharply, her face a shade paler. "He did it," An edge of anger filled her voice, slightly baring her teeth. "He killed our uncle, King Theoden…" Her voice faltered at the mention of her Uncle.

"But he was at the foot of the Misty Mountains," I added looking to Strider for an answer, "He can't possibly be in two places at once!"

"He wasn't there," Eomer said quietly, "His servant, Grima Wormtongue—""Don't say his name!" Hissed Eowyn quietly, bringing her arms up to wrap them around her stomach. "He poisoned the mind, tongue, and heart of our Uncle." He continued, "I was banished, though my sister was kept locked inside our own home… Then Wormtongue led our uncle to his death. He disappeared for two days…finally returning with hundreds of orcs that he let loose upon our villages. I was able to go back into Rohan to rescue Eowyn, but we have been followed by orcs since."

_Well that explains the strange man with Saruman. _I thought, as I took another large bite out of a half of lembas (Though I quite longed for some real food, maybe even some ale). I couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt that their troubles were our fault somehow. Did we upset Saruman enough to make him decide to kill their uncle? _Of course not! All we did was set his belongings and tent on fire… and run away with his stone…_

"I was perfectly capable of escaping on my own…" Eowyn muttered, a hint of a smile playing upon her face. "Then how come you did not?" Eomer asked, turning to her. "Uncle…needed me," she replied hollowly, any signs of a smile disappearing as she looked down towards the side.

After a moment of silence, that seemed to have lasted hours, Eomer lifted his eyes back up to us. "Pardon me, but…well I cannot help but wonder why four hobbits, a wizard, two elves, a dwarf, and two men are traveling together."

"It is none of your concern." Gandalf assured too quickly. _Of course it's none of your concern, especially because our world's fate depends on us, and if we fail...we all die. _I thought bitterly, biting back my tongue.

"Then where," Gimli said, his loud and rough voice cutting through the silence, "Where do you plan to go, master horse lord?""Well that's the problem," Eomer clasped his hands clad in leather gloves. "I am the only heir left to the throne of Rohan. Wormtongue is probably with his master, Saruman, right now; both plotting to rid me, so that my land is securely theirs. If I were to go anywhere, they'd find me, hunt me down."

"I believe we share a common enemy…" Frodo commented softly, so that we could just hear him above the crackling of the fire. He looked up towards Gandalf. "Then, may I ask," Eowyn said tentatively, "How have thou made an enemy such as the wizard of Isengaurd? One does not cross his path lightly, and live to tell the tale."

"Then you'd be surprised to hear we all did." Strider gestured to the fellowship, "Especially her."

Hearing the mention of 'her', she looked up shyly, and then turned her head down again. "Permission to tell the tale?" Her strong voice echoed off the sides of the surrounding trees, and the green hill across the way.

"Granted," Gandalf answered, lighting his pipe for the second time that night. I put my elbow on my knee, settling my chin in my palm. The rest of the fellowship settled into comfortable positions too, whether on their stomachs, backs, anywhere. For our story could, and would, take awhile.

_**

* * *

Calathiel**_

I suddenly arose from my sleep, quite surprised to find tears running down my cheeks. Flashes of my dream repeated in my mind. I blinked them away quickly, whipping my tears with the back of my palm.

I straitened up my back and craned my neck to get a better look at the camp. The fire had died completely. Everyone lay fast asleep upon the ground, sprawled out like fur rugs around the remains of the fire.

An owl hooted in the distance, sending a shiver down my spine. I shifted slightly, allowing the blankets that had been wrapped around me to slide off my shoulders, landing in a heap besides me. I felt the coldness of night begin to seep into my skin. Without any thoughts or intentions, I began to unlace my boots, and then I slipped them off. I put my bare feet on the wet and muddy ground, staining the soles of my feet with the earthy brown of the damp dirt.

Supported by the rough trunk of the old cedar tree, I hauled myself to my feet, shaking slightly. I staggered forwards a couple steps, soon landing on my hands and knees. As my head hung, my hair blocked everything in sight like a curtain. With an aggravated sigh, I tucked the strands behind my ear, and sat up on my knees. Then I stopped; something had caught my eye.

I was looking into a deep and wide puddle, with the moon illuminating the water's surface, creating almost a mirror. I crawled forwards slowly, my reflection coming into view with each movement.

My eyes widened at the sight of my reflection. In a short phrase I looked…well quite unlike myself. My normally pale skin was covered in horrible bruises, and scars. Up and down my arms were horrible burns and my lips were weather beaten and cracked. Stray pieces of hair covered my forehead. But the thing that had taken me aback the most was the one long scar across my face. The white, jagged line started at the corner of my eye, going over my nose, the all the way towards the opposite corner of my mouth. I traced the line lightly with my index finger. _What has become of me? _

I had done everything he had said not to. I was not bold; I let them kill my father, I didn't fight back. I didn't take care of myself; just by looking at me, one knew that was true. And I never returned home…_and probably never will…_

I picked up a stray rock and flung it with more force then I intended too. It broke the surface of the water, shattering my reflection. The water sprayed up in all directions, splattering up at my face.

Fighting the strong urge to cry, I got myself up again, climbed the old cedar, and curled up inside its branches. It was then that I stopped fighting, letting the tears come once again. Tears for my father, gone forever, tears for him, and tears for the pain I was bringing others and to myself. _How many elves do this? _I wondered. Eventually I cried myself to sleep, full of distasteful regret of the things that had come to pass.

* * *

The sun had just begun to fall behind the horizon. The sky was now painted with streaks of magenta, violet, and gold, on a canvas of peach. Small puffs of darker purple dotted the sky. All were being pushed behind the horizon by the royal blue sky of night, paving the way for the moon, and the stars.

A small village, no more than three miles square, stretched across the other side of the ledge she over looked. Straw huts seemed to be used as houses, one by one becoming lit up by candles. A couple buildings were made out of wood, most likely inns or taverns. In the center was a building made of grey stone. A thin line of uneven wooden poles was used a wall, that could easily be knocked down by a man. _What a defense,_ she thought.

Satisfied with what she saw, Calathiel turned nimbly and crept silently back down the slope, her hair flowing behind her like streamers. After winding her way between a small brush of trees and thick bushes, she returned to her. The fellowship along with Eomer and Eowyn, stood at the ready, packs on their shoulders.

"The village is small, and seems to be quite poor. They'll be up for any offer we make, I bet." She spoke quietly, eyes darting across the men. "Though it seems like it's quite popular for cut-purses, pit-pockets, robbers, and criminals."

"What does that matter? We can take any-" Blurted out Gimli, who shook his ax menacingly. "They are nearly invisible, and are quite more dangerous than any orc," Aragorn warned sternly, having quite the knowledge for the topic. "Some only go for your belongings…" he said then, glancing over at Calathiel and Eowyn, he added, "Some for other things…" Then he returned his gaze back to the center. "But most go for the kill…"

"Well," Gandalf walked towards the trees briskly, "Hopefully they have boats and more food. We'll be there for one night only, and then we'll continue." Boromir followed him quickly, concern spread across his face. "I don't think it is wise to let everyone come, Gandalf," Though Aragorn didn't address his opinion, he agreed with Boromir. Gandalf opened his mouth as to speak, but Calathiel beat him to it. "I don't think it's a proper place for me to be… I don't trust them…" she said weakly.

"We need to get boats. The winds have changed and will get us to Minas Tirith much faster than on foot. Once we're there, we'll get more supplies, Aragorn will claim the throne, and then we shall leave towards the Dead Marshes. Since this is the only town for the next four days, we need to go here. Besides, this hideaway for the scum of civilization is so small that it doesn't even make it upon the map. If we purchase anything here, unwanted ears won't be able to hear of it." Gandalf explained forcefully, "I don't feel think it safe being so far away from any of you, so we **all **must go…we shall stay at the inn."

* * *

Calathiel walked with gall, her hood pulled over her eyes so that the shadow it casted covered the rest of her face. She was afraid of the worst happening, being around drunken men and crooks, though no one else seemed to show the same concern however, not even Eowyn. Though she seemed to be well off, her brother keeping great protection over her as they walked the dirt roads of the so called 'town'. _Hardly a town, _she though kicking a pebble towards a bale of hay. It hit its mark perfectly before landing back upon the grass.

The fellowship began to near one of the only wooden buildings; its sign creaked as it swung back and forth pushed by the wind. It read, _Mahogany Inn and Tavern_. The windows were lit by the roaring fire inside the fire place, along with the numerous candles and torches. The low laugher of men echoed out the door and onto the street, mixed with the playing of a string instrument. The unmistakable smell of alcohol wafted amidst foul odors wafted out too, though much stronger. Making Calathiel even more paranoid.

Gandalf stopped at the front of the group and turned around, causing everyone else to pause, almost immediately. "And this is where we part," Gandalf announced, gesturing towards a dirt path that went towards the right. "Get rooms and wait for me at the tavern. I'll be back within two hours. Be careful, and stay together." They all nodded, or made some reply vocally. And with that Gandalf left, leaving them to enter the musky old place.

Before Calathiel stepped through the door, Aragorn grabbed her shoulder, stopping her. "Keep your eyes and ears open," He whispered in a voice barely audible, putting a needle-sharp dagger into her palm. "_Be careful_." She nodded slightly, sending her hood off her head. He grunted, and went to discuss with Eomer his situation. Leaving Calathiel to stand alone. She watched him, then slowly began to enter, pulling her hood back up, and wrapping her cloak around her covering her legs so that only her boots were shone.

Avoiding the gaze of anyone or anything, she made her way quietly and carefully to the furthest corner of the tavern, as if a ghoust. She set herself upon a small table in the shadows, and tucked the dagger into her belt, keeping her hand upon the pocket she placed it in.

For the next hour, she watched the small world of the room, pass by. She watched as Eomer and Eowyn talked with Boromir, and Aragorn about their arrangements. Eventually they reached the decision that they would come along until they reached Minas Tirith, and would make decision there. She watched as Merry and Pippin drank at least 3 half pints of ale, and probably more though she stopped keeping track. They began to sing badly, missing noted completely or hitting them very sharp or very flat. Frodo watched them slightly amused, as Sam rolled his eyes and sat quietly. Legolas and Gimli were speaking to the inn keeper who also served as the bar tender, getting enough rooms for all of them.

_What a vile drink_, she thought as a man fell off his stool not too far away from her. _It takes away all common sense and all self control of mind and body. They become addicted and unable to deny their want for the poison. _

The bar tender/innkeeper walked by me, his steps loud and heavy. She turned her head to the side as he stopped in front of the table where she sat. "Can I get you anything, sir?" He asked with a whiff of tobacco around him. In a calm sort of panic she lowered her voice and replied, "No thank you." As he left, she kept herself from laughing, thinking, _That impression was horrible!  
_

Suddenly Frodo appeared, through the crowed wave of men, a smile across his face. "Calathiel?" He asked softly in disbelief, to make sure. She nodded in response, and he let out a whooping laugh. "I could hardly recognize you! You remind me of when I first saw Strider—er Aragorn." Calathiel smiled to herself, and shifted over to make room for him. "Be quite about it if you don't mind," she warned, "I don't want the men we don't know to see me…" "Why not?" he asked, plopping down on the top of the table. "I don't trust their type…" she eyed a man pass by, who didn't care to glance at them. "Besides... What happened to Eowyn was—""What?" He looked at her, his expression somewhat confused.

Calathiel paused, considering how to answer. _That's what you get for eaves dropping…_ "Oh nothing… never mind," she replied distracted. Then she quickly decided to change the topic. "How are Merry and Pippin?" She asked, stiffing back a laugh. Frodo looked up towards her, grinning and shaking his head. "Too much ale...but Sam and I have seen them in that state before. Though Sam scolds them every time." "I can believe that!" Then he stopped laughing and straitened his face. "Though don't get me wrong, they are normally fine hobbits." She nodded, calming her own smile.

"Mr. Frodo!" Yelled Sam from somewhere amongst the crowd. Frodo sat up straight as soon as he recognized his voice. Turning to her, he said quickly, "Pardon me." He pushed himself off the side of the table, landing hard on his feet. After gaining his balance, he darted through the men, disappearing from Calathiel's view.

Feeling something rub across her ankles, she jumped slightly in her position and lifted her feet off the ground. _Mice, _she grimaced sitting with her legs crossed. _I don't know how I'm to sleep in this dirty place. Maybe I'll climb out the window and find a tree, or at least a patch of forest—_

"Finally…" A high male voice hissed, putting his grimy hand over her mouth, forcefully pulling her backwards off the table. Calathiel barely had time to flinch. She tried to scream but it was to no avail. With a loud _thud_, her skull landed upon the patted down dirt floor, then her world went black.

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**OH NO! (Scary music) Stay tuned to find out, and comment to make me really happy!**


	12. Chapter 12 First Sight of the End

**Notes: ****I am so sorry for the slow update! I have these annoying state assessments at school, plus play practices are getting longer, ect. But enough of me making excuses. This chapters a bit short, but please enjoy it! This is not the end of the story. I think I'm about 1/3 there! So keep coming! ****May I present chapter 12! Wow time does fly... ****  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own any Lord of the Rings stuff. It all belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, except for Calathiel (who's my best friend ever! jk)  
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Calathiel**_

My eyes flew open, panic over taking me as I felt someone's nose graze my neck. I wanted to scream, I wanted to hit whoever held me, but I was tied tightly and gagged professionally. Plain fear kept me remaining silent and still. My stomach churned and tied in knots as I squirmed.

Arms crudely caressed my shoulders even as I flinched and cringed. _Where am I?_ My eyes glanced around frantically, within the short seconds I had, I concluded that I was somewhere I had never been before in the middle of the night. But I knew nothing more, for the darkness hid everything from my sight.

The man, who had hold of me, pulled me closer. Breathing into my neck, he whispered gruffly with a strong hint of tobacco, "Stop trying, beauty…it only makes it _worse_," Yet this only made me try to pull away harder, in frantic almost hysterical movements. But I froze as soon as he pulled out his knife and slid it up my torso, putting it at my throat. "That's it dearie…" My eyes widened as I tried to draw back. His voice suddenly began to remind me of the one I heard before I blacked out. He pushed the knife harder. I felt warm blood trickle down my neck.

"Well you two seem to be having fun," a new voice said flatly, his footsteps slowly getting louder. I stopped my struggling and tried to strain my eyes to see him. "Fun indeed…" The man clutching me said, shoving me coldly to the ground. I landed hard, and attempted to roll away, but he put his heavy foot upon my stomach. The spikes on the heel of his boot dug through my bodice and into my flesh. I moaned, curling up on the dirt. "Ya call this _fun_?" A lower voice neared, along with two heavy objects dragging behind him. A torch seemed to be with him too, for light began to enter my vision.

"Wormtongue…" I said through gritted teeth, though no one could understand, for my words only came out as slight mutters. He looked at me, his eyes wide. "You have all that I've… I've asked for?" He asked to the man holding me down and the man with the two large sacks. "Well if you 'ave the money…then I s'pose we do," "All in good time, Nathaniel…all in good time…" Wormtongue chimed. The man holding the two sacks, or Nathaniel, grunted. "Good time meaning when you feel like it!" The other man yelled, putting his hand to the hilt of the sword on his belt. "He ain't worth it, Crainack…until we do the job we not getting anythin'…" Nathaniel grumbled.

"Where're you friends, Grima?" The man indicated as Crainack smirked, spitting into my face. "Well if he wanted this to remain quiet, he wouldn't have brought them, 'ey?" Nathaniel laughed. "Shut up, you fools…he wants them within two weeks." Wormtongue whispered, giving them a look of anger. The fear that seemed to linger in his voice made them quiet up. He turned, indicating for them to follow. But Nathaniel and Crainack stood rooted to the spot with intimidating grins wide across their smug and unshaven faces. "The 'alfling?" They asked together.

I froze. _Did they have Frodo? _

Wormtongue froze, his back facing us with his shoulders raised in a hunched over position. "We'll find _that _out…soon." They chuckled to themselves, which made me nervous.

Suddenly Crainack grabbed my tied wrists roughly, and pulled me towards him so I was almost leaning on his chest. "Wanna drink sweetie?" Grabbing my tangled braid and pulling my head back, he removed my gag in a flourish of the hand. Crainack kicked my shin, forcing my mouth open as if to yell, but instead he forced a horrid drink down my throat despite my useless cries of protest.

My legs buckled beneath me as I slumped over to the side. Things began to blur. Nathaniel pulled out a large burlap sack and approached me, laughing. As I tried to stumble away from him, Crainack grabbed my waist and pulled me towards him. "You'll warm up to me," He whispered, shoving me inside. Darkness swallowed me up once again, as I fell limp and crumpled.

* * *

My eyes opened for less than a second before I was plunged into ice cold water. A faint cry of, "No!" was the only thing I heard before water completely enveloped me. Two sets of arms held me under. The small amount of oxygen I held in my mouth escaped my lips and joined the rest of the bubbles, flying upwards; free as birds. A terrible burning began to grow inside my lungs, giving me the feeling that they were going to burst. I jostled my shoulders as if to make them let go, then tried to scream, but it was completely muffled by the water.

Before I had time to think, they grabbed my wrists tied behind my back and pulled me up. I clenched my eyes shut as my wet hair plastered against my forehead. My chest rose and fell as I gasped for air in between fitful coughs.

Suddenly someone harshly grabbed my face and held it between their hands. My eyes flew open just in time to see Wormtongue's face inches from mine. "**Does **he h—have the…ring?" He forced my head to the side so I looked at the river bank, where Frodo was being held by a man I did not recognize. We lock eyes for a moment as the water of the lake I stood thigh high in, splashed against my leg. Nathaniel, who appeared to be holding one of my arms, slapped me hard across the cheek. I just glared at him, my lips sealed tightly.

Suddenly I was aware of another's presence. I glanced around to the other side of the lake where Eowyn and Eomer were tied back to back, guarded by two other men I had never seen. My stomach formed a knot.

"Don't feel like talking you bi—" Taunted Nathaniel before I was plummeted beneath the water. I was able to catch a small breath, though it was mixed with water from the lake. My mind raced; I needed to convince them that Frodo didn't have the ring. But then they'd kill him, and I would become of no worth…_well at least alive_. But if I said that he _did _have it, then they'd take it, and kill me probably.

Nathaniel and Crainack dragged me up again. I hung my head, panting loudly. "Fine!" I cried in defeat, spitting out lake water. "He doesn't have…it…" Wormtongue searched my face for a sign of a lie, though he appeared to find not a single one. _One of the few advantages I have, _I thought grimly. He took a step back, and looked at me for a moment. "She's served her purpose…him too," he gave a small hand motion, and then turned towards the river bank where Eowyn and Eomer were tied. _Great job, now you're both going to die…_

Nathaniel made a low grunt, then shoved me backwards into Crainack, then walked towards the opposite shore.

"Pity…"he murmured as he held my arms back, stopping me from escaping, "I really hoped I'd get to… keep you." I growled roughly, trying to avoid his eyes by turning my head this way and that. Suddenly a noose of rope fell to my neck, making me stop instantly. I looked up slowly, panic and fear growing within my heart. Nathaniel just barely held a rock almost half his size, the other end of the rope around my neck tied around it. I could've sworn my heart skipped a couple beats. "Get 'er to the deep part of the lake!" Nathaniel ordered; sweat dripping from his face from the weight of the rock. "Hurry up, then!"

Though as hard as I tried to plant my feet into the mud, Crainack pulled me after him, since he was indeed much heavier than I. Much sooner than I hoped, we stopped; the water to my ears, and to the shoulders of Nathaniel and Crainack.

"Grima! Grima, listen! Please stop this!" Eowyn yelled as calmly as she could, though she got no response at all. "Saruman said he needed the stone she carried! If you drowned her then—then how would you get it?" Frodo yelled suddenly making everyone's heads turn at the same time.

I quickly glanced at Wormtongue who seemed to be considering the thought. Frodo's breathing along with the rush of the water was the only sound. "Bring her here," he declared quietly, seeming to tense. The three other men who were guarding Eowyn, Eomer, and Frodo exchanged smug glances.

As soon a Nathaniel clambered up to the shore, he set the heavy rock down. After catching his breath, he joined the other men, who laughed at him for struggling with the large rock. He shut them up before they opened their mouths to speak, using his fists as persuasion. Crainack kicked me to the ground so I landed on my knees infront of Wormtongue. They no longer needed to hold me down, for the rock attached to the rope around my neck kept me from running, along with my binds.

His hand reached down into the folds of his dark brown furs and robes, his eyes fixed on me, glowering hungrily for my pain and torture. I turned my head slightly to look at Frodo, whose face was extremely pale with fear for me, and for him, for he knew he was next. He nodded slightly as if to say, "I'm here."

Wormtongue drew out a white short-sword, its blade sharp and pointed, going downwards in a threatening zig-zag. The sword seemed to hunger for bloodshed too. _'Tis funny things should end this way, _I thought as he raised the short sword. _My own arrogance had gotten me off guard…a simple mistake leads to death… _The blade was now higher than his head. I truly had never contemplated how I was to die. I felt the eyes of everyone standing watching on my neck. _Does it hurt? _I thought childishly, _Well obviously getting stabbed will_. I cringed at the thought, then suddenly realized the situation was before me. My heart rate picked up drastically. _I shall be with father, all will be alright, and this end is only the beginning._ I reminded myself, trying to slow down my own breathing, though it refused and only began to pick up. _Don't show fear…try to die with the little honor –_

I heard a slight _swish! _

My eyes clamped shut, bracing myself for the impact of the blow… but it did not happen. I waited for a couple seconds, refusing to open my eyes. _Am I dead?_

Suddenly, a large object seemed to hit the ground with a loud thud. I cracked one eye open when I realized something had pushed the rock back into the lake. It slid quickly, pulling me mercilessly. I heard a splash. I left the ground, flying into the air. Then _I _hit the water too, the rock pulling me under, deeper, and deeper into the water. But this time, no one was there to bring me up. And with my hands tied behind my back, I was helpless.

I watched the moon grow smaller and smaller, as things began to grow darker. I reached my hand out finally realizing, _This is the end. _

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_**Please, PLEASE, PLEASE, comment about this chapter! PLEASE COMMENT!**_  
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	13. Chapter 13 Battle Along the Water

**Notes: Hola my readers! I sadly did not have time to put my _beautiful artwork _as my Avatar, but I promise I'll have it out ASAP! Remember: PLEASE COMMENT!**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own Lord of the Rings. Everything belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien, excluding Calathiel and the plot twist.**

**Warnings: At the end, (you'll know it when you see it) slight grown up concepts. Also first character death.  
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**Happy reading!  
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Aragorn**_

I kept my eyes on the situation, waiting without a sound. _The opportune moment will appear…_ repeated in my mind, looking over to Boromir who hid next to me, behind a thick tree. Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Gimli lay behind a mangled brush, while Gandalf hid behind the shelter of a neighboring tree. Legolas waited in the branches of my tree, bow drawn, ready to kill.

About five hours ago, we had been quite oblivious to the fact that four of our comrades had disappeared from the tavern, two of them being the most important. After Gandalf had returned from purchasing the boats, Sam pointed out the fact that Frodo had left, and hadn't returned for "some time, now". It was then when we were suddenly aware that the Eomer, Eowyn, Frodo, and Calathiel were nowhere inside the tavern.

Luckily the bartender said that he had noticed a couple strange looking fellows leave the tavern. Then much to the displeasure of Merry and Pippin (who were half under the influences of the large amount of ale they drank) we sprang up and tracked Grima Wormtongue and his men for the past four hours- Which was not an easy task.

We had only arrived just as the two men were moving Calathiel towards the shore. It appeared as if they were attempting to drown her, but something seemed too had changed their minds. Everyone now waited for the right second to burst in, for the element of surprise would be helpful.

The only good thing I had learned from being a ranger was that I simply knew the ways of criminals and scum of the sort. They were not brainless orcs; they were quite smart, in a horrible way. Especially on the topics of killing, stealing, and fighting. Meaning that this rescue would show to prove quite difficult.

Calathiel was kicked to kneel down in front of Grima Wormtongue, the rope around her neck tied to the large rock trapping her. As he took out a jagged short sword, I looked up to Legolas and whispered, "No diriel." He nodded, though his face was still turned to the situation.

_How do they manage to constantly put their lives in jeopardy? _I wondered, pulling out my sword and eyeing Calathiel. I sighed looking downwards. _Yet you still put it upon yourself to save them…_ How could I not, though? I wasn't about to let either one of them die. For that would be letting all who walk Middle Earth die.

Wormtongue raised his weapon above his head, pure hatred growing in his eyes. He looked down upon Calathiel as if she were an animal; below him, unworthy of even his slightest attention. His knuckles began to grown pale white. _He's actually going to do it—_

Before I could let out a word of protest, Legolas let fly an arrow. It cut through the air, making a loud noise, piercing the silence, and letting them know of our presence. Wormtongue saw it immediately, and threw down his short sword, hurling himself to the ground. "No…" I couldn't help but mutter as his eyes grew wider with the realization that we were here.

Then suddenly he began to laugh; a twisted, strange laugh. Boromir began to move forward, but I put a hand out to stop him. "Y—you're too late!" He called, still laughing. The men helping him looked in our direction. "You can't help them! You're…you're fools to b-believe you can!"

"Stay down," Gandalf whispered sharply to everyone, when I suddenly heard a wail of, "NO!" from Frodo. Everyone spun back around. The rock Calathiel was tied to, was now racing down the slope towards the water, pulling Calathiel backwards, by her neck, with it. With a splash, both landed in the water. That was all I needed.

Before even realizing what I was doing, I began to run hard, my eyes focused on the remains of the splash. I threw my belt with my weapons and things along with my cloak, behind me. Sidestepping the men that tried to block my way, as fighting began to break out between the fellowship, and Wormtongue's men. Then without a second thought, I dove into the freezing water.

In the water, time seemed to slow down. Every motion was pressured against the water, causing you to move quite slowly. Everything was silent, except the faint popping of bubbles. I turned my head looking for her, slightly jumping when I saw her. Lying upon the floor of the lake, there she was; lifeless and pale, a faint glow coming from the inside of her shirt. Her hair floated around her face, waving in the current. Her eyes were closed peacefully, her face free of tension. I would've guessed she was dead, until I saw her shake slightly, and when her feet (which were robbed of her boots) twitched. I swam downwards, hacking at the rope with the knife I had given her, which still remained tucked in her belt. As the last fibers of the rope snapped, I gathered her into my arms. Beginning to lose breath myself, I swam upwards to the faint glow of the moon.

As my head broke above the water, the silence was broken. Shouts and clangs of metal rang out through the plains that surrounded us, as the fighting carried on.

I crawled onto the wet shore, setting Calathiel on her back. As soon as she made contact with the ground, she began to cough up water mixed with blood. She inhaled in loud gasps, and exhaled with fast wheezes. "Deep breaths…" I tried to ease. She opened her eyes groggily, her lips quivering from the cold.

"_It lies near…the fish needed by the ravens…the decision draws hither…" _She murmured faintly, I watched her intently, not knowing what to do, or how to react. "_One shall die…a company of eleven shall turn to-to ten…" _Her eyes rolled up into her head. I turned my head around to look for Gandalf, but her hand suddenly grabbed my wrist. "_The mighty empire will…fall…none can be trusted…" _"What mighty empire?" I asked leaning closer.

She suddenly cried out in an octave higher, bolting upright looking scared. "Ara—" She tried to say before a booted foot kicked her onto her front. I turned around quickly, pushing myself onto my knees.

"Sorry, dearie…" A tall man sneered, looking down at Calathiel's limp form, aiming another kick at her. Though I beat him to it by landing a hard punch into his stomach. The man staggered back a step, looking winded, and then began to charge forwards. Calathiel shifted her legs, throwing off his weight slightly, giving me enough time to gather my bearings. I thrust the knife at his chest, clashing against his sword. With all my strength I pushed against it. Without the proper weapons, this battle wouldn't last long at all. "Calathiel!" I yelled, dodging a blow to my right. She propped herself up on her elbow, and looked up, leaning forwards to avoid being run over by a member of the fellowship. "My—my sword, please! Anything!" I motioned over to the tree I stood behind earlier before having to roll onto the ground.

Calathiel got up shakily, though quickly, and disappeared into the blur of the fight.

* * *

Calathiel crouched down behind the tree Aragorn had indicated. She breathed heavy, twisting her drenched hair to rid it of the excess water. It landed on the ground in quiet drops, timed perfectly. Her emerald eyes blinked slowly, remembering and understanding the previous events. She murmured something in a silent voice, her lips the only sign that she was speaking.

Her slender and long hand lingered in the air for a several seconds, then she pulled it back when a loud cry from somewhere amidst the small battle they had created rung out through the area. _Pray it is not anyone of the fellowship, _She thought, reaching for Aragon's sword attached to the belt left on the ground.

"Calathiel!" Exclaimed Pippin from behind the bush he was positioned behind, standing up. His voice was, as normal, quite cheery, clearly not matching their situation. She pulled the sword and belt into her chest and looked up at him in surprise. Pippin clambered to his feet too, almost pulling Merry down in his attempt to steady himself. "Gave us quite a fright there," He said sincerely, "We thought you were gone forever!" "Pippin!" Sam hissed, giving him a shove of warning as he left the spot he was told to stay in. "Truly," Calathiel confessed, "I thought so too." She smiled at them starting to turn around.

"Please don't go!" Merry called after her. "It's horrid—you know: staying here, without being able to doing anything," Pippin kicked a rock to the side. Calathiel sighed, and looked back to them, "I know it's—"

Another wail echoed through the battle. Sam's face suddenly paled. "Mr. Frodo!" he yelled frantically, making a run, though not knowing where to go. Calathiel tried to get a proper glance at his location, but was blocked by the mass of people. She craned her neck as far as possible, standing on the balls of her feet, her heels lifted up from the ground. In a swift movement, she turned and shoved Aragorn's sword and belt into the hands of Pippin. "I give you permission to go out there and give these to Aragorn," "Aragorn?" He questioned. Merry nudged him, "Strider! And I'm comin' too." Pippins mouth formed the shape of an _O_, and then he nodded, running behind Merry who had taken the lead. Both held the daggers Calathiel had given them.

Sam crossed his arms and muttered, looking downwards, "Fools…the both of 'em…gonna get themselves hurt—probably worse..." He looked up suddenly and gave a slight smile to Calathiel. "Go on now; don't let 'im—or you, for the matter, get killed." She nodded in response and took off at a jog. _Was that a smart idea to give them his things? _She contemplated as she neared the source of Frodo's yell.

Sam stood where he was left, accepting the fact that he would be better off hidden and not fighting. Though he wouldn't say it aloud, he was somewhat frightened. If it was not for Calathiel, he would've run off to save his own master. But thankfully for him, someone else rose to the challenge, and he knew she would do alright for now.

_**

* * *

Frodo **_

A medium sized, ginger man edged towards me, a wicked smile etched on his bearded face. He held in his left hand, a dull, but spiked, sword. I cowered back further, feeling my pulse beat through my body, its sound drumming through my ears. Almost as if someone was taking loud, booming steps down stairs, getting quicker as he drew nearer.

_**Frodo, love…it's your precious…**_**your **_**precious…I'll save you…all you have to do is put me on…**_

"Go away!" I whispered, shaking the thought from my mind. But the ring wouldn't go without a fight, as usual.

A flash of Pippin, lying completely limp upon the bloodstained ground, ran through my mind. His face was scrunched as in great pain, mouth open as if to scream. Red blood covered his figure, arrows protruding from his chest. A yell filled my ears. _**You can save him from this…all you have to do…is simply put me…**_**on**_**...**_

"No!" I cried, realizing I was shaking. _It's only in your mind, Pippin's fine…I hope. _"Such horrible things one's mind can do to them," I remember someone saying, though I couldn't recall who. Though the one doing things to my mind wasn't me, it was the ring; that wretched thing that had chosen me to torture. The thing that had made my life completely halt, in order to do away with it. It was the cause of not only my troubles, but the fellowship's as well. And it would become Middle-Earth's if I was to fail. And it seemed as I would for the moment.

"S-Sam!" I cried, as Wormtongue's man stepped yet another couple steps towards me. I kicked out my feet at him, trying to push myself farther into the tree, but it was a fool's hope. "There's no use in tryin' halflin'…" he laughed menacingly again at my fear, which only made it worse.

_**Listen to your…precious…Frodo…Frodo…**_

Suddenly, someone leapt out of nowhere, onto the man, sending both of them onto the ground with a soft sliding noise. My eyes widened as they began to roll on the ground in mass chaos of wrestling and fighting for control of their weapons. I then recognized that the man who tackled Wormtongue's man, was Strider—er Aragon. He seemed to struggle to keep the man's sword away from him; desperately holding onto the wrist of the man's hand that held the sword, pushing it away. His other hand taking swift swipes at his face. Wormtongue's man was keenly intent of stabbing Strider.

Then I felt a slight loosening of the binds around my wrists. The humming of a knife cutting through thick strands of fiber sounded faintly in the background. I turned my head as far as I could behind me. Calathiel returned my stare, feverishly running a dull pocket knife back and forth the rope.

"You're…you're alright?" I managed to whisper. She nodded, looking back down upon her work, water dripping from her hair to the ground. _She's completely soaked! _"You're going to catch hypothermia!" I exclaimed quietly, as Aragorn grunted loudly in struggle. She looked down at herself, and then continued hacking at the rope. "I'm hardly the greatest issue at the moment…" she hissed still in a whisper. But then her voice lightened, "But… well, I'll be fine. It's you we're worried about. We being—what are their names? Oh! Merry and Pippin." The rope slid off and landed on the ground. I brought my hands back around to my front and rubbed my wrists. A red circle was all that was left. I looked up, "Sam too?" "Of course."

She grabbed my hand, and forcefully pulled me behind the tree to her side. Strider let out a yell out of view; a yell unmistakably of pain. I made a movement to go and help him, but Calathiel pulled me down again, drawing out the dull knife. "You just escaped from drowning!" I reminded her in a hushed voice, "I don't think it's safe to—" "I'm quite capable of taking care of myself, Frodo." She hissed, clearly angered by my statement. I drew back respectfully, not knowing what else to do. _It was wrong of me to question her capability. She's an elf, she'll be fine. _"Sorry My Lady." She got up off her knees, looked back down at me again, then sighed closing her eyes. "No I'm sorry," she spoke quietly; "I didn't mean to get aggravated. Its just that...oh never mind." And with that, she walked off at a brisk pace. I tried to keep myself from wanting know the end of her sentence. As she disappeared, I brought my head around the tree to watch.

But there was nothing to watch. The man, Strider, and Calathiel just stood there, looking off somewhere I could not see from the side of the tree I hid behind. Everything went silent unnaturally in a couple seconds. Then, with a slightly aggravated expression, Aragorn dropped his sword to the ground. As it settled with loud clangs, Calathiel dropped her blunt knife. _But without weapons they're powerless! _I thought as I swung to look to the other side of the tree, my curiosity rising at a steady pace. But in less than a moment, it turned to utter terror, mixed with disbelief.

Gimli lay on his stomach, still gripping his ax in one hand, his face was covered by shadow. The hilt of a knife sticking out from his back. The unmistakable red color of blood splattered his shirt and chain mail. I covered my mouth wanting to cry out, though I was still in shock. Then I turned my gaze upwards. Wormtongue stood straddled over Eowyn's legs, with one hand on the ground next to her shoulder, the other holding his jagged dagger to her throat. She breathed heavily looking up to her brother with a dreading expression, powerless.

"And if you don't surrender…_now..._" Wormtongue seethed, quite pleased with himself, "She's dead…or _worse_..."

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**Stay tuned for more, and comments REALLY make me happy. So please, click that button below, and R/R or anything! Thank you!**


	14. Chapter 14 The True Conflict Reavealed

**Notes: Hmm...sadly I've run out of things to say. So here's a great quote that I personally like, though it doesn't really go with the chapter.**

**_"Will wonders ever cease?" "If they did, I'm afraid life wouldn't be quite as interesting..."_**

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**Warnings: The first character death takes place in this chapter.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings. Everything goes to J. R. R. Tolkien! (Thank you so much Tolkien, for this beautiful story that allowed me to be creative!)**

**Enjoy!_  
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Frodo**_

"Did you…_miss _me…lovely Eowyn?" Wormtongue whispered, leaning his face towards hers. She barred her teeth, and spat at him. Her eyes read pure hate trying to hide her growing fear. He reacted slowly, reaching up to his face to wipe the corner of his eye.

Eomer growled quietly to himself, and then looked towards Legolas, who still held his bow. They locked eye contact for a moment, Eomer's expression growing tenser. That was all, it seemed, that Legolas needed. Faster than one could blink, an arrow flew through the air, hitting Wormtongue on the side. He let out a gut wrenching scream, which flew throughout the untamed land, echoing loudly. Dropping the jagged short-sword, Eowyn threw him off of her using her hands and feet. He curled up into a ball as he made contact with bare ground. She grabbed his short-sword from the ground, sprung to her feet, and put it to _his _neck.

"Come on, mates!" yelled one of his men, putting his sword into the sheath around his waist. His voice seemed to be the only sound other than Wormtongues constant moans and hard breathing. "Dead men don't pay nuthin'!" He laughed crudely, then took off running towards the faint light of the 'criminal's town'. His comrades exchanged apprehensive glances, looking to consider the thought quite well. I guess they did, because one by one, they left as their leader lay in pain.

Gandalf stepped forwards, next to Eowyn, looking down upon the man who had cause the whole battle. He patted her on the shoulder, signaling her to pull the short-sword away. "Worthless little worm…" he muttered, causing Wormtongue to glance up at him with wide eyes. "Go back to the stinking halls of stone from which you came!"

Wormtongue didn't react to this statement, only stared. Gandalf brought out his own sword, "And tell your puppet master precisely this: He shall not- shall never, get the ring nor the stone. And if he should try to reach for it once again, it shall be the end of him, the end of _you_, and the end of the foul creatures he houses in Orthanc. He has lost." Wormtongue cowered backwards, still lying on his back. I emerged from the tree slowly as he just stared at Gandalf, seeming to not comprehend the words he had just said. "Go!" Gandalf bellowed fiercely, banging his staff upon the ground, sending small sparks from the tip.

Eomer, walked up besides Gandalf, followed looked quite fierce. "Stay away from Rohan," Eomer commanded, making him shrink further. "And from my sister..." Eowyn cleared her throat uncomfortably, and shook her sword menacingly. "He deserves to die…he killed uncle!" she breathed hoarsely, her torment finally coming out. "He killed our innocent people- man, women, and child!"

"He killed Gimli…" Legolas added quietly. I felt my stomach churn in yet another knot. I took another tentative step towards the mass of the scene. Sam joined my side quickly, numb from what he had just seen.

"While he does deserve to die," Gandalf said roughly, "We shall prove to be the better person." Eowyn reluctantly lowered her blade, and then tossed it aside. Wormtongue rolled to his stomach where he pushed himself up to his feet. As he retreat his steps towards the direction his men went, he began to cackle wickedly, growing louder. "The fools, the lot of you all! That was a stupid choice!" He warned, pointing at every one of us, though he looked at me the longest. _Did he know—_"Oh yes…I know what you have!" He sneered, grin widening. "Saruman will have your heads, your stone (He gestured to Calathiel), and the ring!" He began a frantic sprint, but then paused and sneered from the distance of a couple yards, "And Rohan…Rohan is dead."

Eomer made a movement to pursue him, and Legolas raised his bow, but Wormtongue disappeared into the shadow of the distance and the darkness. _Where he belongs._

"Gimli…" Legolas echoed, with the most emotion I had ever heard from him. Everyone suddenly realized it; he was _dead_. Boromir began to inch forward, Merry and Pippin at his heels. They moved in a somewhat dream-like state, scarcely believing their eyes. Aragorn followed suit with Gandalf. Eowyn and Eomer stayed where they were, feeling a lack connection to be included. I took a couple steps to join them, but Sam grabbed my shoulder. "I don't want to…you know, see him…dead," he murmured sheepishly. I patted him on the back, "No one really does, Sam."Calathiel and Legolas joined last, looking down with their heads bent, though Calathiel stood a bit farther than the rest.

She looked up, her eyes widened. "They have reinforcements, at least eighty," She said through the depressed silence. "On their way as we mourn." Legolas listened too, nodding solemnly in agreement, "They come near."

"B-but we haven't a proper farewell!" Sam protested, knowing everyone else felt the same way. He looked around for support, but we knew that we'd have to move on or risk further death. "Gimli wouldn't have wanted us to die as well, Sam," I reminded him quietly.

"Everyone, gather the weapons and supplies. We must make haste if you intend to catch a proper rest tonight." Gandalf ordered, sending the fellowship scattering to finish their small tasks. Everyone took small glimpses of Gimli's body as they passed by, muttering blessings, depressing songs, or prayers in their own language or tradition. I stood alone; in complete silence (Sam had abandoned me to get his large pack). Calathiel caught my eye for a moment, and then walked past me. _What had we dragged her into? And what did she drag _us _into?_

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Aragorn stoked the small fire absentmindedly, humming quietly to himself as if no one was around. The majority of the fellowship had retired already, the moon starting to go downwards on its constant journey. They had run for a while before Gandalf had decided they were well hidden, or at least far enough from them. The fellowship gratefully had called it a night—a long one of that, quite tired from tracking down Wormtongue and his men, and fighting. But when one would take in account of the mental exhaustion; Gimli's death, and plain fear, any sort of bed would look welcome.

"I'm sorry about that," Calathiel spoke in a hushed voice. She drew the dry cloak she was given tighter around her body for warmth. Gandalf looked up from the map he was studying as Frodo asked, "What for?" She sighed, watching her bare feet as she grazed them over the grass. "It was my own fault that I was captured- and might I add, again." Gandalf rolled the map back up and placed it inside his bag. "You are a very strange elf, Calathiel."

She stared at the wizard, her face showing a hint of a quizzical expression, "What do you mean?" Frodo gazed at the wizard, too, quite interested in what he had to say. "I have never met an elf before," Gandalf continued, pulling out his pipe, "that blames herself so often." Calathiel folded her arms at the comment, leaning backwards on the log she sat on, "Lady Galadriel said somewhat of the same thing." Aragorn set down the stick he was holding and put his elbows on his knees. "Did you try to get yourself captured?" He asked. Calathiel answered quite confused, "No, why would I?"

"Well then it isn't your fault," He put plainly, "Truly, if it were to be anyone's fault, it would be ours. We hardly noticed you were gone until Wormtongue's men had already run off." Calathiel shivered slightly at their mentioning. "They were absolutely horrible to you," Frodo mentioned. She looked at him and smiled slightly. "Yes, they were," she said, "But I'm alright…I just don't really want to go swimming any time soon."

They chuckled softly, mindful not to wake the others. Calathiel didn't find it close to half as amusing as they did though. "Thank you for saving me," She looked to Aragorn, her voice quite humble. He nodded in response. Calathiel turned to Gandalf and asked, "Did you end up getting the boats and the supplies?"

"Well…I did," He sighed somewhat aggravated, "But the boats are still at the tavern where I left them. So we shall leave for Minas Tirith on foot." They nodded, though all were somewhat disappointed that it would take longer time and more effort to get there.

Aragorn clasped his hands and looked at Frodo and Calathiel, "You two better get some rest. It has been a very trying day." Frodo nodded and rose to his feet. "I doubt sleep will come to me, but I guess there's no harm in trying," he said quietly, "Good night." Aragorn nodded as Gandalf and Calathiel replied, "Good night." He gave a half smile; though anyone who looked upon it would know there was no true happiness at all there. Then with barely audible steps he made his way towards an empty spot to lay down his blankets.

Calathiel got up as well and made to walk to her own make shift bed when Aragorn said, "Try to stay here on the campground tonight." She blushed slightly and turned around. "I don't mean to make you worried," she apologized. Then Gandalf said, "We know you don't mean any harm, but it is becoming more dangerous to wander off- Especially in the middle of the night."

"My dreams haunt me…" She admitted, her eyes catching the light of the fire. She shifted her weight to the other side, drawing her arms up around herself to hug her shoulders. "The only real comfort I can find seems to lie inside the forest. When I'm alone…and when it's silent. It's the only real familiar thing, it seems. It reminds me of home, or at least somewhat." She took a couple steps backwards, her face redder than normal, feeling slightly embarrassed for her childishness.

"Did you really want to come with us?" Gandalf asked, puffing a ring of spoke into the air. She sighed, lowering her arms to her side. "Well it wasn't as if I had a real choice in the least." Calathiel looked up to the sky, "I really just didn't want to be left on my own again, I guess. At home, as I've said before, there would only be… nothing. I would fall into despair and isolation, no family left for me. So I said I would come, knowing that the stone would have to be destroyed if I wanted to live. But as you can see, I don't really belong here."

"I think you do fine," Aragorn offered, receiving a disagreeing expression from Calathiel. He turned to Gandalf for a moment, and then looked back at her. "Just try not to wander too far."

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"Poor girl," Gandalf commented, sure that Calathiel was asleep at the moment. Aragorn looked up from the ground, allowing him to continue. "I can hardly imagine the emotional weight of her father's death, mingled with the loss of her love. Her torture has made her very wise, Aragorn, considering that elves Legolas's age would consider her not even a woman, yet." Aragorn shook his head, "Though I fear that if someone were to get to her through those emotions, she'd be done for." "I believe she's very strong, she might become a key part of the battle of the ring," Gandalf remarked with a perspective tone, "Though she has yet to show signs of that."

Aragorn shifted in his position, turning his face upwards, gazing at the moon. Suddenly something crossed his mind. "Two ravens, one fish...both need the fish..." he whispered almost barely. He got up and began pasing around the fire, his eyes deep in concentration. Gandalf suddenly realized what he was doing, "You don't think..." He started, Aragorn then paused and turned back around to face him. His hand rested upon the hilt of the sword at his belt, "Gandalf, she needs the shards of Narsil to destroy the stone. But I...I still don't understand..." Gandalf furrowed his brow as a memory came back to him. "Lady Galadriel spoke to me before we left Lorien. She spoke of a great battle before the black gates of Mordor as Frodo went to destroy the ring." Aragorn considered the fact for a moment knowing that the Lady of Light was never completely wrong.

"One sword cannot be in two places at once, Gandalf." He sat down silently, thoughts beginning to grow. "_A path now diverged with a choice..._" He quoted Calathiel, "_One shall live, the other shall…die."_

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** Sorry, its a kinda short chapter...**

** Remember to please comment, or review! It improves my writing very much, or at least I think so...lol! Until next chapter reader!**


	15. Chapter 15 Namárië

**Notes: The title of this chapter means "goodbye" in Elvish. (If my website is correct, Lol!) THIS IS NOT THE END! **

**WARNINGS: this chapter contains suicidal thoughts.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR. It belongs to J R R Tolkien!  
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Calathiel**_

The moon had reached its peak long ago. It now began to lower as the sky slowly turned dark purple in the east. The woods were uncommonly silent, its life seeming to be absent. The faint orange glow of the fire back at the camp played strange shadows upon the patch of forest, constantly changing as the fire leapt from the pit. I walked absent-mindedly, distracted by my own thoughts. With a brief glance to my left I saw a small white circle, contrasting to the darkness around me.

I bent down onto my knees and gently plucked a pale white lily from the ground. I fingered its delicate leaves between my fingers, marveling at its simple beauty. I lifted it to eyes level to find that the snow white petals were stained at the edges with the dark dirt on my fingers from the battle only hours ago. Suddenly the murmurs back at the camp grew louder. I felt the lily slip from my grasp as I turned towards the direction the sound was coming from.

I was sure it was Aragorn and Gandalf. They were talking about me for sure. I didn't have to listen to them to know that. They talked about how the sword Aragorn carried was needed by me and by him, and how if he did not have it, he would fall in battle. And if I were not to have it as Frodo destroyed the ring, then I could not kill the stone, and I would eventually die of its poison.

I leaned down towards the grass of which I knew the lily lay somewhere. I ran my fingers over the gental green stems of some weeds, taking in the smell of the surrounding pine trees. Then it hit me.

_How could I be so selfish, _I thought distastefully, realizing something I should have awhile ago. I stopped all movements.

_"The only way you can destroy the stone, full of poison that can kill the soul, is with the shards of Narsil. It has defeated evil such as concealed inside the stone, so it can certainly do it again. The moment the ring touches the flames of Mount Doom, you must plunge it into the stone."_ _Galadriel had said._

"No." I whispered faintly, grasping the lily finally, pulling it towards my chest. There was something she didn't tell me-something that could've saved Gimli.

Saruman's words echoed inside my head. _"The only way to get that stone off of you is if you are… dead."_ Death. The stone would be of no longer trouble if it was off of me… if I died then I wouldn't endanger the already doomed men of the fellowship any more. I was only but another burden to them, plunging them into greater peril. The only reason I was to travel to Mount Doom was to help myself, and even if I did that, I would deprive Aragorn of his sword, which would be needed during the battle at the Black Gates, as Galadriel had said. It was not like a ring of power where I would save Middle-Earth if I succeeded. I was only doing this so that **I **did not die.

He was far away across the sea. My father – my family was…_gone_.

I was suddenly aware of the dagger at my belt. My hand wandered towards its hilt, though my mind was begging it not to. It brushed over the surface, feeling the leather on my palm.

_No Calathiel! _I screamed in my thoughts. _Life is a gift! You still have your home. You have the fellowship! Do not be folly; killing yourself is not the answer! _But it was. I was speaking madness but it made sense all the same. As I had seen tonight, I was capable of even killing the others while I was with them, or at least when the stone was. And if I was to kill Frodo, then all of Middle-Earth would die as well, for all of us knew, there was no other ring-bearer. Well at least none that could resist the temptations.

I flung the dagger at the ground, its blade sticking into the grass. It seemed to be deep enough so that it stood up on its own. A tiny sliver of metal twinkled for a moment, trying to get me to pick it up. But I couldn't…but…

I pushed myself back up onto my feet, turning my back to the hilt protruding from the earth. _It would all be alright. Go back and stay there. You're too dangerous even for you._ I took several quickened steps towards the comforting light of the fire, knowing I would be somewhat safe there. But then I immediately knew I was wrong. For no one was safe, not in the least.

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Frodo**_

The golden morning sun broke apart from the misty horizon. The sky was light orange-magenta, fading into violet. The stars began to take cover, along with the moon, disappearing as the light grew. There were no clouds in the sky strangely. But it fit the occasion. How I would break this to the others…I did not know. What I had seen during my watch of the night was unpreventable, for somewhere in my heart I knew it would've happened. If the ring had not numbed my emotions, I would've awakened everyone at the moment of its happening. But they wouldn't have wanted me to.

With a very quiet rustle of blankets, I saw Sam shift his sleeping position, groggily trying to get into a warmer position. I doubted he'd find one, for I was freezing. The morning chill was almost unbearable, and that was with my cloak wrapped tightly around me. But I would have to make due. I would've considered trying to start another fire, but I didn't want to wake anyone. For as soon as I did, and they realized two of their comrades were missing, I was the one who'd have to explain a situation that I barely understood myself.

_It's your precious…precious…Frodo…Frodo Baggins… _

I shuddered, feeling an unwelcomed shiver run down my spine. My hand longed to touch the ring, lifting from the edges of the rock I sat on. My cloak blocked it though, thankfully. "Leave me." I murmured, knowing it was quite pointless, "You're the least of my problems…"

I hummed a line of the old walking song, my thoughts drifting back to the Shire. I slumped by back against the stone and yawned softly. I hadn't slept in several days now, but I had stopped counting. I could wake Sam up and ask him. He had been begging me to get some rest. I always had faked it, or at least just sat in the blankets. I supposed some sleep was good. For I had never remembered being more exhausted. Maybe just a couple hours...

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"I told you, I know nothing of why this happened!" I said somewhat agitatedly under the pressure of every member of the fellowship- who was left. Their eyes remained fixed on me as much I wished they didn't.

"Without Gandalf we're nothing!" Boromir yelled, arms flying. He glared at Aragorn, who seemed to be the unofficial leader now. "And if Calathiel ends up in Saruman's hands…" Legolas started, clearly not trying to put any more pressure on his friend. "He took our horse!" Eomer added with a hint of anger in his voice. "Not that it really matters." Eowyn said, looking up towards her brother. More heated discussions broke out.

Sam, Pippin, and Merry stared at me between the gaps of the circle the rest of the fellowship had created. They seemed tired of all the arguing, as did I. We were going nowhere, or just in circles if anywhere at all. I wished he hadn't left us, especially without even saying a word. But I bet he planned it that way, so that we couldn't stop him, or make our emotions keep him from going.

"Listen!" I yelled, though it barely stood out above everyone's angered voices. "Please, just listen!" "Shut up!" Sam hollered much louder than I had ever heard, turning pink. The fellowship picked his voice up quickly, quieting down as told.

"For all that I know," I said carefully, walking towards the center of the circle, "After most of you had retired for the night, Gandalf, Aragorn, Calathiel, and I talked for a little while. I went to try to sleep shortly, though it did not work. I saw Calathiel disappear into the forest as usual. Then I was told to keep watch as Aragorn and Gandalf—" Boromir turned towards the ranger with crossed arms, "What happened?" His words were hard and enunciated. Aragorn shifted his weight and nodded towards me. I swallowed, and blinked as if to say, _Thank you. _"They-they went off down towards the empty fields, with the horse, without a bridle or a saddle. From the forest, there was a loud slice, and then I never heard or saw her again. Aragorn came back from the field without a horse or Gandalf. And… that is it."

Heads turned towards Aragorn, who didn't seem to mind at all. The elves seemed to have taught him well; his face was as unreadable as theirs, seemingly emotionless. "Yes Gandalf did leave." He said bluntly, to the great disappointment of Pippin, who had earlier suggested that it was some sort of wizard trick. "He did not tell me where," He looked across each of our faces, pausing to take a deep breath. "But, he did tell me that the Lady Galadriel told him he was not going to be strong enough for events to come."

"But what does that have to do him with leavin'?" Merry asked, taking another bite out of a macintosh apple. But no one replied; only silence answered his question. We simply didn't know at all. Well I suppose Aragorn had a couple guesses but he did not appear to want to speak his mind.

"And Calathiel…?" Eowyn asked softly, her glossy grey eyes searching for a sign of an answer. Legolas looked upwards for a moment, considering something. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling gently. They opened slowly, darting left than right. He took a half step towards the forest behind him, turning his body from us. "She went this way," He declared. Aragorn side stepped Boromir and briskly walked up to his side. He murmured something in elvish to him, his voice somewhat grimmer than normal. Legolas replied with a short, one-syllable word I could not make out, and then motioned for the rest of us to follow.

We took no delay in following his light and fast footsteps, forming a large clump behind him. Maybe it was the growing fear that she was dead, or just the concern for her, but as the tree grew denser and denser, so did our anxiety—some more than others. This was probably the only reason we were able to keep up with him while he was tracking. I wondered what was leading him this way, but made no comment.

He suddenly stopped in front of a particular large pine tree. Caught behind the back of the group, I could not see the source of the commotion. Though soon enough, I felt Aragorn's hand grab my shoulder and guide me to the front. Then I knew why everyone had crowded around the tree, for a note, written on a terribly damp and crumpled sheet of parchment. It hung there firmly by the tip of a dagger, one I believed to once be Aragorn's. It read:

_Fellowship of the One Ring, Eowyn and Eomer of Rohan,_

_I am apologize- I apologize for everything; for leaving you without warning, _

_For causing the trouble about Aragorn's sword, _

_But for most of all, dragging all of you into a situation you should have been out of._

_I fear I shall not see you again, I make back for Lorien, then to my home. But before that happens, I am sure I am to die of the stone—the cause of all this. _

_No galu govad gen, namárië_

~Calathiel

What I could make of this I did not have time to say, for we had to move on, though no one wanted to. But all I could wonder was simply, _why? _We were silent that whole day. For our only light... was gone.

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**This chapter is really sad. (lol sort of, not really) Please comment! I really would appreciate if you keep them kind and polite, because sad to say, I'm a tad bit sensitive! Thank you! **

**P.S. No galu govad gen basically means "May blessings go with you".  
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	16. Chapter 16 Glimpses of the Ones Who Left

**Notes: Hello again! Oh it has been too long, hasn't? Yes, I went on a lovely vacation to Disney World, and HP World (which btw was AMAZING!) But enough of my excuses, I am very sorry for taking so long! Also, some of you may or may not have heard that I planned to finish the story soon. I though about it, and after a while I changed my mind, lol. So this story shall continue for a reasonable time! (Crowd cheers) And please note, this chapter took a very long time for me to write actually, so I made it kinda short. I personally think its not my best chapter, so please try not to hate me/the story.**

**Disclaimer: The song Calathiel sings at the end IS NOT part of the Tale of Beren and Lúthien. Also I do not own that song either, it belongs to Robert Burns and is called, _The Winter It Is Past_. **

**You know the drill, I don't own Lord of the Rings anything- and never will. (sobs off stage)**

**Warnings: There is some blood in Wormtongue's bit. And the chapter is short-ish. (That is really because it is a connector chapter that gives you an idea on what's going on)  
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**ANYWAYS Enjoy!  
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_**Grima Wormtongue**_

The pain; that never ending throbbing coming from my side! The stupid elf prince's arrow was just as piercing as a blade, maybe more. I couldn't walk with it in my side for any longer, in fear that I would simply collapse from loss of blood. I dropped to my knees, letting the first loud groan escape my mouth, giving in. For I no longer had any pride, it was all killed, leaving me unarmed against this horrible world that always did me wrong.

_Eowyn…_My thoughts wandered, trying to find a reason to go on,_ A women of equal beauty there may be, but never a woman of equal a strong will, there will never be. Feirce and bold… Eowyn… _I grabbed the feathered arrow with both bloodied hands, bracing my side for a strong blow. It had to be done. But then those dreaded memories came back. _She hates you… she fears you… "You murderer!" She called you that…She slapped you when you killed their worthless uncle… she will _never _be yours…no…NEVER! _I yanked the arrow, my anger the only thing that made me do it, for I was too afraid of more pain—yet it only got stronger. I screamed, the burning seeming to only double. Dark red blood oozed from the wound, warm against my skin, staining my soaked clothes with maroon.

"I will get…get t-this over with!" I yelled, preparing to pull it out again. _What happened to the feared, the powerful Grima? The one who ruled over Rohan, unchallenged? You had her, the she-elf. What a pretty reward you would've gotten from Saruman. What glory you would receive… It is all gone! You lost Rohan! You lost the she-elf brat! You lost Eowyn! __**Eowyn!**_With another scream I pulled at the end of the arrow, tearing the silky smooth feathers now stained with red. They were carried away by the wind, floating a twirling. With another loud wail, the arrow landed on the dead patch of grass I was on. I let my body go limp, and fell backwards onto the prickly ground. _Let them die! All of them! Slow. Painful. __**Deaths!**_

"WHY?" I cried to the gray-purple sky. I brought my arms around myself and leaned onto my side. Then realizing something, I unwrapped my arms and looked back at my palms: My own blood—tons of it. I drew back, horrified. "How did it come to this?" I whispered. Trying to wipe it off on the grass besides me.

Suddenly the steady fall of soldier's marching arose from the distance. I scrambled to my feet slowly, contemplating revealing myself; for if they were a friend, I could get back to Orthanc quickly without risking my wound becoming infected- But that ment having to deal with Master's deadly anger—if Master _was _there. (For he had been busy with something since the last time we met) If it were a foe, well I'd certainly be killed, and I didn't want to test my luck.

Hearing the metal stomps get louder, I made a desperate dive into a thin brush. Crawling on my stomach, I went onto the other side of the brush, towards the direction of the soldiers. As I peered through the trees, I couldn't help but feel a smirk come even through the pain on my side.

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_**Gandalf**_

"_Certain things will happen – things of unimaginable evil. Their power grows in Mordor; they have begun to send them out, attacking the remains of men. While men must turn to the King of Gondor, they cannot win this battle alone. You know this of course, Gandalf, but you must become stronger. Though the power you posses now are enough to fend for the fellowship, you cannot fend the world of men without greater forces… Before Calathiel entered the quest of the ring, I had seen the fellowship turning to the mines of Moria, knowing that the Gap of Rohan was being watched by Saruman's forces. There you were to have fallen, consumed by flame and shadow…" She paused and completely changed her vague expression into a half smile, "Farewell wizard, __Namárië. Pleasant travels."_

"Such a long way down…" I murmured to myself. My voice echoed through the once-marveling caverns of the enormous mines. I took a timid step closer to the edge of the Bridge of Kazahd-dum. A rock fell out of its place in the ground and fell off the side of the bridge, shrinking into nothing as it fell, and fell.

The darkness under me seemed to go on forever, just like these mines. With good reason I did not dare travel here with the fellowship, and yet I was here. All those long days of travelling I had given up, going completely backwards to the way that we came. Yet it was quite faster, having 'borrowed' Eomer's horse. I only prayed it wasn't in vain.

Suddenly a pulse rushed through the earth, shaking the ground beneath my feet, along with the rest of the caverns. A frightening amount of rock and dirt began to loosen above me, a small portion of the dirt showering down upon myself and the bridge. I bent down quickly, gripping the bridge tightly, trying not to lose my balance and fall off. Then it began to die out, growing quieter and still. I cautiously glanced upwards as the rumbling ceased, trying to find the source. It did not appear to be an earth quake, so I assumed it was something above.

I got upwards slowly, my ears straining to hear any more rumbling. It then occurred to me that it was getting quite warm, as if it a bonfire was crackling right beside me. I closed my eyes in realization, _Oh dear... So this is what she meant. _I turned on my heels, drawing Glamdring from its scabbard. And just as I had dreaded it was there; A Balrog. The monstrous creature growled loudly, almost sounding as if a scream, seeing that its presence was now known.

The creature was larger than a cave troll, with glowing yellow eyes. Its body was thick and sturdy, the color of black ash. Veins of lava seemed to glow through his skin making it look as if it lit up from the inside. Orange and yellow flames consumed its body, making it un-attackable, and much more deadly.

The Balrog took another large step onto the bridge, sending a giant quake through it. A portion to my left fell off with a crack, then plummeted down a frightening height. I dug my staff into the ground for support, avoiding glancing downwards. With another ferocious snarl, the beast let go a roaring flame that went as far as where I stood. Without hesitation I jumped backwards, bringing my staff forward.

_There is no use fighting it, for this is how things are supposed to be. But it is best to die with honor, than with fear. _I thought, tightening my grip on Glamdring. "You shall not pass!"

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_**Calathiel**_

I hummed quietly to myself, taking another bite of a yellow-green apple. I savored the sour yet sweet flavor, having only eaten lembas for the past four days on my own. I seemed to be faring fine by myself, sticking to the forests and bushes for protection from prying eyes, if anyone would dare live out on these rugged hills.

I reclined against the bark of a solid oak tree, gazing up at the thousands of leaves above. For those four days of traveling, I had always reminded myself, _they aren't too far away you know, you can still return to them. _But I was now beginning to dismiss the fact. And they were much too far away now. I had made the decision, and there was no turning back – of course only in the metaphorical sense. The silence of being alone did not bother me at all. It gave me time to think and take in my surroundings. Though there was something about being absolutely alone that made me somewhat unsettled, but I'm sure it would wear off soon enough.

Since the sun was behind grey clouds the whole day, I had decided to set up camp earlier, for darkness would come quicker. I made sure to make it under the trees with many thick leaves, for it smelled as if it would rain. With all the tightly packed trees surrounding me, I couldn't make a fire, so I wrapped my cloak around me, tight.

"_The winter, it is past, and the summer's come at last,_

_And the small birds sing on ev'ry tree._

_The hearts of these are glad,_

_But mine is very sad, for my true love is parted from me."_

I sang in elvish. After finishing the verse, I took one last bite of the apple, and then tossed the core to the other side of the brush. The song reminded me of a commonly told folktale that I had heard as a child, The Tale of Beren and Lúthien. I had never liked the story, only the tune of it. The words were very depressing, so I focused on the notes instead. I couldn't help but smile at the fact that it reminded me much of myself.

I cleared my voice to start the next line of the song when hundreds of footsteps entered my wide range of hearing- Obviously ones belonging to soldiers of some sort. I sprang up instantly grabbing my sword off of the grass. I listened once again, and then decided they were marching in a different then my location, towards Minas Tirith. My eyes swept the proximity, reassuring myself that I was well hidden. I settled down a bit, backing towards the tree once again. _But whose army would pass this way?_

Considering the thought, I turned to face the tree, and grabbed the branch closes to me, then pulled my chest up towards it. After being able to sit on it, I shimmied up the rest of the trunk, with the help of footholds on the branches. Once I got to the proper viewing height, I stopped. My eyes growing wide.

Soldiers, bearing the white tree of Gondor, marched strongly. But behind them were… orcs- atleast five hundred, and they weren't fighting each other. What made my stomach drop though, was when I noticed the white hand painted on the helmets of the orcs.

"Saruman." I whispered, loosening my firm grip upon the tree. _But that meant— Oh no… I have to get away before they come to close! _I turned my head quickly and begun to climb down when an arrow flew through the air and planted its self in upper part of my arm. I cried out softly, entirely letting go of the tree_. _I plummeted towards the earth, snapping branches as I went. They dug into my back as I fell and fell. With a hard thud I landed on my side, too stunned to do anything. "I think we fell a lark!" Laughed an unforgettable voice. The footsteps grew louder as my world became darker, until it was all black. _  
_

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**Wow, what a plot twist! Lol.**

**The fragment of the song that Calathiel sings is again a real song. I sing it for voice warm-ups* and its very beautiful/sad. I added it cause it reminded me of Calathiel. So if you wanna look it up, please do! Yes this was one of my worse chapters, but I really needed to move on, if you know what I mean. **

**Please press that nice little button below that reads 'Review'. Comments, reviews, ANYTHING makes my day! ; ) Thanks!  
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	17. Chapter 17 Freed to be Trapped

**Notes****: Thank you all so much for all the views! We broke the record last chapter! Hope you all are enjoying the story so far! I know I am really loving writing it! If you would please R/R it would be highly appreciated! Thank you for staying with me for so long!**

**I have absolutely no idea if Minas Tirith has dungeons. Maybe because I forgot, but if there isn't, I am very sorry. But assuming that almost every middle age castle has one, I decided to presume there was one! **

**Special thanks to Luna Elen, Song in the Woods, MammonDaughter, and new lights for being awesome, nice people, and constant reviews!  
**

**Disclaimer: Though this is sure to come as a huge shock, I don't own Lord of The Rings anything. The only thing I got is my OC, and they're MINE! jk ; )**

**Warnings: Nothing much, do NOT get angry at me for what is revealed at the end... (SPOILER: it may not be true...)  
**

**Happy Reading!**

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_**Calathiel**_

Feeling the burning throb upon my arm and back, I realized I was awake again. The stone let a pulse of poison into my body. I gasped quietly, feeling my chest rise and fall heavily, the pain growing. A sudden rattle of metal echoed down tunnels far away followed by a single pair of light footsteps. My eyes opened quickly. I tried to control my breathing as to make my presence less apparent. But it was difficult as I begun to make out my location. For it only filled me with more dread.

I seemed to be in dark and musty cell. Iron bars surrounded me, every several yards a column of the stone material that was used for the walls. The rest of the area was cloaked in shadow, though by the constant echoing they were probably long passage ways. Upon the ceiling was a small hole that seemed to let out to a town, though thick grating blocked the people outside from view. The small light came through fell onto me, though as a person walked by, the cell would fall into a second of darkness. I was sprawled out upon the packed dirt floor, with an iron cuff fitted loosely upon my neck. My eyes followed the chain it was attached to, to a weld in the wall. The metal was too thick to even attempt breaking, even if I was in my proper state. The thought began to sink in. I was trapped, completely. Escape would be a pointless attempt.

Where am I? I thought, trying to calm my self by watching the small hole in the ceiling as soldiers walked by, the clinking of their armor pounding through the caverns. I could only guess what the symbol on their tunics was. Then another wave of pain hit me. I moaned.

I turned my head slowly, to look at what was causing the burning of which I could barely stand. I was absolutely mortified when I saw a crudely made arrow sticking strait out of my upturned arm. The skin around the wound was pink and inflamed with the tips of the arrow-head barely visible. Dried blood formed around the rest of the piercing. I quickly reached to try to pull the arrow out, worried that it would become infected, but then I remembered exactly where it had come from.

Yes, that was the trigger that sent my mind whirling with the memories of seeing the army, the orcs, and the filthy worm with his monster of a—_they have me again!_ I screamed in my thoughts, sitting up quickly. _And they won't be so keen to let you go this time_, _they are surely going to do away with you this time!_ I lunged towards the bars of the cell, but I was yanked back by the chain around my neck. I caught my breath slowly, as my instincts were begging me to run as fast as I could. But I refused, fear and panic held me in place along with this wicked barrier my captors had set up.

It was then I became aware of the light footsteps nearing by an alarming amount. I froze, and then pulled my legs closer, watching the tunnel where the sound was coming from. I braced myself to attack.

Suddenly the light footsteps were joined by heavier ones, probably wearing boots. "Sorry, no one's allowed here, sir. Only –" There was a loud snap, then a faint crack, followed by a thud. I swallowed the lump in my throat and grimaced. The light footsteps carried on, but much faster.

Then from the shadows came a man. I relaxed a bit for the man held not single weapon. But mostly because he looked kind, I could see it in his eyes. _At least he doesn't intend on killing you..._ I thought sarcastically, unsure of whether or not to trust him .

The man was somewhat fair for his race; dark hair framed his face and reached a couple inches below his ears. His eyes were grey with a ring of light blue around the pupil. Indeed, his leather tunic had a white tree stitched into it, proving that as I had correctly guessed, I was in Minas Tirith. Under the tunic he wore a long sleeve dark green shirt, which sleeves' tucked into the matching leather gloves he wore. Looking at the way he stood, I sensed an air of nobilty around the man, though he looked somewhat beaten down by another force. Something also seemed strangely familiar about him.

At the moment he was catching his breath, half doubled over. He turned his head to look over his soldier, to see if anyone was coming, I assumed.

"Are you the one the White Wizard talks about?" He asked quietly, moving towards the strong bars of the cell, "The she-elf who had escaped death several times, who carries a stone of poison on her chest?" I truly wondered how the word had gotten around so quickly, but let the matter be. "Yes," I answered slowly. "What does it matter to you, though?" I asked my voice giving off a rougher edge than normal. The man pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, and quickly jogged towards the lock on the door in one of the sections of iron bars. "Any enemy of Saruman is a friend to me, especially since they were planning to execute you this evening." He said quickly, then found the proper key and unlocked the cell. I couldn't help but move my hand to my throat, amazed they planned to do away with me so quickly.

The metal bars swung open with a creak as he stepped inside and walked towards me, holding another key—probably to the cuff around my neck. "Who are you?" I managed to ask, sliding backwards to the stone wall. He got onto one knee, assuming that I was afraid of him, which I, myself didn't really know. "I do not wish to harm you, My Lady. I myself am a victim of the white wizard, but that is for another time." He tried to give me a smile in showing that he had kind intentions, though it was an emotionless and empty smile. "I am Faramir, son (he chuckled bitterly to himself) of Denathor the second, Steward of Gondor. Well some could argue that fact."

I took another glance at him, and then stated, "You're the brother of Boromir, aren't you?" He looked at me with a surprised sort of confusion. "I would quite enjoy hearing your tale on how you met my brother…?" "Calathiel—Calathiel of Mirkwood." I added quietly. "Yes, Calathiel," He repeated, taking up the key again. "But I am afraid we must make haste. The worm along with some of his loathsome orcs, were on their way to the dungeons, and I suspect they were after you." I nodded, sure that my face had fallen a bit.

I looked up quickly and took the key from his hand, gently though with speed. I brushed aside my tangled mane and found the notch of which to stick the key in, without being able to see it. I heard a soft _click _before the opened cuff fell onto my lap. I promptly shoved it to the corner of the cell, were it fell into a pile of hay. Then, pushing myself up, I stumbled onto my feet.

"Are you alright My Lady?" he asked, making his way out the cell door, his back turned to me. "Why?" I questioned, but then looked down at my arm; the arrow obviously still stuck. "Oh, I'm… I'll be fine. We just need to leave, now." I stepped over the door swiftly, landing without a sound.

"I'm terribly sorry to ruin your plans, _elf._" My heart skipped a beat as I looked up, though I already knew who had said that. And sure enough, too my horror, smirking down at me was Wormtongue. I made a dash towards the passageway, but two orcs filed in behind him the size of small wardrobes. "But I don't believe that will be happening." Wormtongue stepped aside as one orc began to walk with long and loud strides.

No sooner was I then grabbed roughly by it, cringing at the feel of its slimy, filthy hands. Though the claws were much worse, for they were sharp and curved, cutting into my skin. The force of which he held my arms pinned them down to my sides, immobilizing them. I tried to shake them off, but then saw how useless it was. So I brought my right foot forwards, and kicked the orc strongly in the shin. He roared loudly in pain and anger, but didn't budge on his grip. His partner laughed at his pain quietly, his laugher sounding more like the hoarse bark of a dog.

"And what are _you_ doing here?" Wormtongue growled at Faramir, taking a long stride to stand in front of him. Faramir looked towards me, to the orcs, and then back to Wormtongue (who was a good couple of inches shorter than him). "Fithly worm let the girl go." He said quite calmly, yet strongly. Wormtongue paused for a moment and then just laughed; his voice high and nasally. Just the sound of it made shivers run down my spine. After calming himself he continued. "You have no authority over me! Nor what happens in Gondor now!" He sneered, spitting at the ground. _What does he mean? _

"And if I were you," He shook a crocked finger in Faramir's face, taking another step closer, "I would be careful, very… for you are next…" Wormtongue pulled his hand back, trying to look for a reaction. Though Faramir held himself back, "My father would never—" "Ha!" Wormtongue exclaimed loudly, "Think of your father no better than the once King Theoden!" This made Faramir draw back.

"Oh you've heard the news?" He asked, pleased with his threat. The revolting man turned on his heels, in a sweep of brown robes, and then glided towards me. He turned his head slightly towards Faramir and said, "Never mind that. If it pleases you, we are expecting some, hmm what should we call them? Oh! Guests, lets say. Since we wouldn't want them to miss the festivities, the execution will be postponed until their arrival."

"No!" I exclaimed suddenly, the only one who seemed to know who he meant by 'guests' finding myself jumping forwards. Wormtongue looked at me with an evil grin. Oh the pleasure Saruman's servant seemed to have at the moment. _They can't come here! Taking the ring into the capital of men—why that's a horrible idea on its own! Gandalf would never lead them here!_

"Take her away please," he nodded slightly to the orc holding me. "We can no longer have her unwatched. Not after today. Besides, Saruman has requested her to be here when our guests have arrived." The orc grunted in reply, and begun to push me towards the door of the tunnels. I refused to budge. "Grima! Stop this—" Faramir began. "You horrible, evil man!" I yelled, which I rarely did, "What a folly thing to presume! Gandalf is not a fool! He would never—"

"Gandalf is dead stupid girl!" He retorted over me. I shut up immediately, looking down at my feet in disbelief. The room filled with heavy silence. _No, no… how? He can't possibly be—but if he is… _The orc lifted me up off my feet with ease, and begun to leave. I couldn't help but feel that it was true though. "You lie!" I screamed at him, as the orc threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Well lying would be a waste of my time wouldn't it?" he sneered, making his way back to Faramir, the distance between me and them growing as we made the turn to go down the passageway. "You're a murderer!" I called into the long and dark tunnel, knowing Wormtongue was somewhere beyond the bend. The blood began to rise to my face.

"Put a sock in it!" Commanded the orc gruffly, tightening his grip on me.

"Escort this young man gets out of the dungeons, and do not allow him anywhere near his father, nor outside the gates." Echoed Wormtongue's voice down the tunnels.

I closed my eyes, trying to assure myself that what he said wasn't true. But I didn't believe my own words. _Please don't come to Minas Tirith. Please, please don't. _

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**Poor Calathiel! Lol!**

**Please press that button below that says 'Review' cause they really improve my writing! Ask Luna Elen, she knows! See you all next chapter!  
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	18. Chapter 18 Camp Fires and Small Spaces

**Notes****: I am very glad to be back on a more regular writing schedule, and I'm sure you all are too! You can thank Spring Break for that one, lol! Yes, I am very thankful for a break from school! But who isn't?  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings. But I do have my lovely buddy Calathiel, along with my wonderful OC's. So if you don't mind, they're mine!**

**Warnings: I don't really know how to say this... well remember this story is rated T for a reason! Don't worry, its similar to what happened in chapter 12. If you wanted to know its at the very end of the chapter. **

**Enjoy!**

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_**Sam**_

"I don't understand." Frodo said softly, looking into the fire. A piece of untouched lembas was in his hand, and it had been for the past hour, despite my pleas and reasoning. There was something mighty unnatural about that; not eating for several days, in which those days you would work until the camp was set up. I had no doubt that it was the ring that was doing it to him, but I didn't know how to say that to him. He had also been growing quieter, only speaking when being spoken to, and not for very long. But the worst part of it all was that he seemed to be losing his trust within the fellowship. Not with me, Pippin, or Merry, and of course not Strider… well I don't really know. I just prayed he didn't think I would steal the ring.

"Don't understand what, Mr. Frodo?" I questioned, sitting down upon the log next to him. He stared into the crackling flames for several more seconds, and then turned his head to look at me. "Why they would leave us." He gave me a sad smile. I wrung my hand subconsciously, trying to think of a reasonable answer. "Well…" I started slowly as Pippin came and sat down beside me, "You know Gandalf, he never stays long; a couple days in the Shire, then gone. But… you know—he always seems to come back when we need him, right?" I looked to Pippin for support. "The Prancing Pony," He reminded me distracted by something on the other side of camp. "Yes, I know that!" I responded with an agitated sigh, "But he met us a Rivendel, which is what really mattered. And that didn't help my point in the least."

Pippin seemed to want to disagree, but then seeing the look on Mr. Frodo's face, he leaned backwards and let his eyes wander. I shifted into a more comfortable spot on the dead log, and began again. "Calathiel probably left because—" "She blamed Gimli's death upon herself, along with the rest of our troubles." Mr. Frodo cut in though I didn't mind in the least, "She believed she was a burden to us." After comprehending his words, I nodded in agreement. "But she was wrong." I noted, to which he nodded. "Yes, and I hope she see's that before we get to far away from her…" He said, before trailing off and looking upwards.

Boromir walked by, carrying fire wood. Because of the strong tension I could feel in the air, he seemed to take forever to finish his task. Finally he tossed the thick branches into the fire, causing the flames to rise up and devour their food. As Boromir got up, he and Frodo stared at each other with untrusting glances until he went back to arguing with everyone else. Well they called it 'discussing'.

Yes, I believe they were speaking about something that related to going to Minas Tirith. At the moment they were all standing around in a cemi-circle; Strider, Eomer, and Boromir. Of course Eowyn had been discussing the matter too, but then got annoyed at the stubbornness of Boromir and walked off. Legolas was involved too, sitting up on the branch of a tree, offering his opinions when called for. Though he was more interested in working on sharpening his long knives.

Suddenly Pippin laughed, causing everyone's head to turn, his cheerful voice much louder in the open. He then noticed how everyone was staring at him, and dismissed them by saying, "Sorry! Never mind me!" A couple sniggers where heard before everyone returned to what they were doing.

"What was that for?" Frodo asked with a thin grin across his weary face. "Look over there," He whispered back, pointing over to the left. I almost laughed too. For Merry, with the tips of his ears scarlet, was smiling wide and talking with Eowyn.

"So all hobbits live in _holes_?" She asked jokingly, which made the three of us watching chuckle.

"Not all," Merry explained, "But they aren't simply holes! No, they have floors and ceilings, with windows and large circular doors."

"Frodo has a lovely one back in the Shire!" Pippin yelled, revealing the fact that we were watching him. Merry paused for a moment, sighed, and then turned his head. He starred daggers at Pippin, his face turning red. Then just to push his friend further, Pippin waved with a bright smile across his face.

_Oh the Shire, _I put my head in my hands as Merry got up and began walking towards us. _I can only pray to return there. Pray, and imagine being there, putting my memories to good use. _

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_**Calathiel**_

I sat with my back against the stone wall, my feet propped up against the other side. The new space was dark like the cell, but much, much smaller. And the worst part was that I couldn't see anything outside, making me oblivious to the time, and desperate for any sunlight. I had guessed its previous use was a broom closet, but I had no idea. But certainly, it was small enough to be called a broom closet. And to destroy any hope of escaping—or any hope at all, two orcs were posted outside the bolted door.

_How could Gandalf be dead? _I thought miserably, tracing the patterns on the worn stone walls with my index finger. _I heard him leaving the night I left, but no one could've murdered him! Besides, he's a wizard… _I shook my head slowly, putting my chin on my chest. _I should stop this; trying to comfort myself with reassurances, for they aren't true. _But did they have to be true if it made me feel better?

I let my back sink further down the wall as I let out a stressed sigh. If they planned to keep me in there I might as well have died before the fellowship came here. It made me think of those endless rainy days of which I was trapped inside my own home. I would walk in circles complaining to father in elvish, "There is nothing to do!" Except there was truly nothing to do to pass the time in an isolated broom closet.

I brought my legs down from the wall and turned over on to my elbows. My leather belt, now worn and straining to hold itself together, finally tore. I unclipped it and examined the rip. _Perhaps I can sew it back together, _I thought. I turned it to look at it from the back when a quarter of a lembas cake fell from a leather pouch, still in its leaf wrapping. It seemed like it would be enough to tide me over for two days at the most (If they didn't plan to feed me). _Maybe they didn't search me! _I opened up a neighboring pocket and found a couple of shriveled-up flowers, and a round button. My excitement died, hoping to see my dagger in there. Then I started going through each pocket on my leather belt.

After several minutes I also rummaged out a small piece of chalk, unraveling ribbon, and my plain comb, snapped in to two uneven parts. Unsatisfied, I it lifted it up and shook it upside-down. In a small shower of crisp, dried leaves, my tin whistle fell with a loud clatter. I snatched it up quickly, hearing the orcs outside shift. I held my breath as they grunted to each other, but as their murmurs quieted down, I relaxed a bit.

Positive that the beasts wouldn't storm in at the moment, I brought the instrument up to eye level and took in its silvery color. There were several nicks, dents and scratches along its sides, but it appeared to be in working condition. _Play it! _It begged me, as I held it between my hands. I longed to hear the sound it made; I longed to be taken out of my condemned prison by the music! _The orcs would hear it! _I reminded myself, _though… someone else might hear it too. They could get me out!_

I coughed suddenly into my fist, dust filling the air around me. I flicked my hand in front of me, sending the tiny specks away. Then with a slight inhale of breath, I lifted the tin whistle to my chapped lips. Then as I blew, the music began to flow out naturally. My fingers danced on the circular holes changing the tone of the sound. I played a quick, joyous tune, with many high notes. For the ears of men pick out high notes easier to lower ones. I blew harder as the song progressed hoping someone would come, but they didn't. I tried another song, and another song. And they all appeared to be to no avail.

I was in the middle of fourth song, and beginning to lose hope when a soft _click _sounded through the tight space. It was followed by two large whacks against the thick piece of mahogany wood. "Shut up in there, or I'll break your stupid whistle!" Someone yelled outside, unmistakably an orc. I took no time in pushing myself into the farthest corner of the broom closet, and stuffing the tin whistle back into my belt pocket.

"Don't get any ideas, she-elf!" The monster ordered, yanking the door open forcefully. My eyes took a second to get used to the light, but adjusted quickly. The orc stepped in front of its frame, baring my exit. "Get on with it!" He yelled over his shoulder.

A young woman, probably of twenty years of age, peeked around the door, and quickly took a step inside. By the clothes she wore, I could easily assume she was a maid. For her dress was quite worn, with the blue dye fading. A stained apron tied around her neck then around her waist, patches of miscellaneous fabrics randomly sewn on. She had thick circles under her hazel nut colored eyes. Her lips trembled slightly, fear turning her whole face pale. In her hand was a small cloth pile, thin twine tied around it to keep it together.

She stared at me in awe for a moment, looking mostly at my pointed ears. She looked at me as if I was some exotic flower she had never seen before, making me feel quite awkward. _Probably haven't seen an elf before… _I reasoned. The orc holding the door slapped his hand against the wall, making the woman jump. "Hurry up!" He barked impatiently. The young woman looked towards the door, and then put the pile of cloth in my hands. Then with a small jump, she was out the door, and quickly walking to the right then out of sight—probably wanting to have nothing to do with me.

I pulled at the twine, and pulled out the first folded piece of cloth. It appeared to be some sort of a chemise, a very large one in fact. "What is this for?" I asked, holding up the clothing and taking a brave step forward. "Master demands a council with you." He growled.

"Who is your 'Master'?" The orc clenched his fists, clearly annoyed, "No asking questions! Now get on with it!" I closed my mouth, and shifted my weight backwards. I expected to see the hideous creature close the door and wait for me, but seemed as if he didn't intend on even looking away.

My heart began to pound faster in my chest as I tried to look for a corner in which the orc wouldn't see me, but then again, it was only a broom closet. Trying to calm myself down, I looked back towards the clothing, and noticed something much harder than the other materials. "I shan't wear this." I declared, pulling out a black corset. I couldn't stand the feeling of corsets, for I often found myself unable to breath.

"You will do so," He yelled, taking a step into the broom closet, "Or I'll just have to put it on you!" _No that would be worse, _I thought as the pit in my stomach grew. I nodded meekly, and pulled the bundle towards my chest. I turned around as the orc laughed evilly at me, which only made my face a darker shade of red. For that was the moment I dearly wished to be anything but a woman, or an elf.

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**_Broom closet_! Lol that's our little inside joke thing now! Poor Calathiel...**

**Hope you liked that! Please, please comment!**


	19. Chapter 19 Gondor in Fear

**Notes: Hello ladies and gentlemen! I am proud to introduce to you... Chapter 19- the longest chapter yet! It would be sad to say that I am proud, so lets just say I'm glad I finished it. You know those chapters/paragraphs that are so easy to write? I like to say, "The words flow out of my pencil, pen, ect." Well surprisingly this one, of all chapters, was. The only problem was I had to write this all in the car... on my iTouch... in NotePad... then send it to myself via email and then transfer it to word. I believe that's something to be proud of! Lol! Enjoy folks! (And btw comments are very appreciated!)**

**Thank you to all my constant reviewers/commenters! From now on, I shall reply to every comment anyone posts! (Nicely, I promise) Hopefully that should give you all some motivation to click that nice button at the bottom of the story... thanks!  
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**Disclaimer: I do not own any LOTR stuff. Only my OC and plot twists, not to mention my iTouch! And I'm happy with those!**

**Warnings: There's nothing too bad here. Just the normal stuff.  
**

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_**Aragorn**_

I clenched my teeth as the heavy wooden doors slammed behind me. The boom echoed, magnifying the sound to twice its volume. Normally I wouldn't have taken the time to notice, but something seemed strangely unwelcoming about it. The strong wind blew again, making a high whistling noise, cutting through the silence. As it swept through the area, it swung open an empty house's door. The screeching of its rusting hinges brought my teeth on edge, but I continued without slowing my pace.

Dismissing the feeling, I looked around, taking in the beautiful architecture of Minas Tirith. I craned my neck upwards, trying to get a slight glimpse of the upper levels, but they were much too high to see. Slight murmurs rippled through the others, as they too looked around at the towering structures.

Frodo, who was walking in front of me, slowed his pace down to walk besides me. "Something feels quite amiss here," He whispered. I nodded in agreement. Minas Tirith was deserted, excusing the two guards at the Great Gate and of those posted around cities walls. Not even a single person was seen about the streets, or anywhere. Doors to shops, houses, taverns, and inns were closed or locked, and windows were shut closed. "What do you think happened?" He glanced up at me, worry straining his face. I sighed, and after thinking for a moment I admitted, "I wish I knew."

Frodo nodded briefly, and then looked down at his feet. "We shouldn't be here," he said biting his lower lip. I grimaced in turn, for that had been my exact thought.

"Though the streets and roads are empty, we are not alone." Legolas stated grimly, looking towards me. Heads turned automatically to listen to him. "I can hear each of them draw breath, and the children clinging to their mother's skirts. They are hiding in their homes… afraid of something." He fell silent again, eyeing an abandoned cart, piled with stacks of dry hay.

Eowyn stopped. I noticed her hand tight upon the hilt of the sword she had stolen during Gimli's death. "Then what are we doing here if there is danger?" Her golden hair swept off her shoulders wildly in the wind as she crossed her arms. She didn't seem to be frightened, but worried for the rest of the fellowship. Though her normal look of determination was absent from her face.

I felt everyone's stare, for they had been thinking the same thing. I looked over at Boromir, who didn't seem to hear the whole conversation, indulged in the fact that he had returned home, to the place of which he was so passionate about.

"I thought that you and your brother wished to discuss plans on gathering your people, or perhaps forming a new alliance with Gondor." I explained to her. After a brief pause she nodded, but didn't look as if my words had swayed her opinion. "Well it doesn't seem they want to speak at all," She said, glancing up at a creaking sign.

"Boromir, do you have any idea of what had happened?" Eomer asked him gruffly, voicing my question. With a blink, Boromir aroused himself from his thoughts and began to comprehend his words.

"No," He shrugged appearing to not even notice the absence of the people. After a long moment of silence a strange, smirk appeared on his face. "But do not fear… Minas Tirith could never fall. Everything is alright, I'm sure…" As he trailed off, he looked towards Frodo, reminding me when we were attempting to pass the Misty Mountians; _Frodo had dropped the _ring _and Boromir- _

Then it struck me—too late. _The ring led us here!_ "Oh no," My heart began to pick up speed as I began to feel more dread rise in my chest. _That is why we feel so questioning, it got into our heads! The ring blinded us! It knows the men here will be too weak… like Boromir… It may be too late, but we must take action! _We had to leave here, it wasn't safe. Well at least Frodo had too.

I turned on my heels and quickly began to walk back towards the Great Gate. On my way I clasped Frodo's shoulder, motioning for him to follow, which he did. Though the poor hobbit had to run to keep up with me. "Come!" I beckoned over my shoulder to the others, "We must leave! Quickly!" Legolas stared at me for a moment read my expression. Seeing how urgent I was, he began to follow at a slow jog, nudging the hobbits to follow.

"Why?" Pippin shouted, quite puzzled. Merry paused too, and glanced at his friend, "Yes, why?" Sam gave them a strong push forwards, and then raced to catch up with Frodo. "Does it really matter?" He huffed as he ran forwards. After exchanging questioning faces, the two proceeded begrudgingly.

As I turned a long bend, I stopped watching to see if everyone was following. For I knew that Eomer, Eowyn, and Boromir would understand— or at least obey orders. But then I was proved wrong.

"Aragorn! Aragorn, wait! Listen!" I didn't have to turn my head to know whose voice that was. "Boromir, not now, please." I brushed him away, picking up my pace and gently pushing Frodo to keep up with me. "We don't have to—" "Do not question your leader!" Legolas's voice raised though the footsteps behind me. At that moment I didn't know if I felt gratitude for Legolas saying that, or embarrassment, but I didn't have time to note it.

"The gates are around the next corner," Frodo mentioned, pointing ahead. I nodded in a thank you and then slowed down. After getting the rest of the fellowship to come to a standstill I began, "Do not speak to anyone who may be watching the gate," I warned them, "I do not know what will happen, but all pray that it will end with a good outcome." After several head nods, I turned once again to the rode, and set off at a normal walk.

Suddenly Legolas paused. "Do you hear _music_?" He asked faintly. I stopped and strained my ears. I waited a minute, as did everyone. Then slowly, I began to pick up strangely familiar notes, reminding me of a flute, or some reed instrument. They were faint, almost barely audible, but if Legolas could hear it, then the sound couldn't be my imagination. "What is that?" Merry wondered aloud. "Tin whistle," The elf replied quickly. "But who would play it if they all are hiding?" Sam asked. _Calathiel? No, surely not_.

Suddenly the sound of marching started to drown out the tin whistles sound. I sighed in frustration. Fifteen Gondorian soldier's marched towards us from the direction of the gate. Their expressions were not welcoming and celebratory as Boromir had hoped for. _Too many to fight and then run off without being noticed_, I though trying to make a plan in my head. But I was now desperately trying to think of something to say.

"Pardon me, gentle men (to which Eowyn crossed her arms)… and lady," Said the leading soldier lowering his spear towards us. "But I need you to please come with me, by order of The Steward of Gondor." Boromir cleared his throat and stepped forwards, thankfully without that strange smirk. "I am Boromir, Son of Denathor II," He explained, to which the soldiers exchanged glances and murmurs.

"Please tell me why we are to be taken like prisoners?" He spoke strongly with his chest puffed out with authority, clearly intimidating the men. The one who had spoken earlier stepped to the front again. "You are not, of course, but your companions—" "Why?" Boromir took a step closer to him. "I cannot say, sir!" The soldier exclaimed defensively.

"Boromir," I whispered, trying to get him to back off of the soldier. He glanced back at me, and then took a long step backwards to my side. "Very well," Boromir said like a sigh.

The other soldiers began to surround us. This is not going to end well… I thought, dreading arriving at where ever we were being sent. For I was sure the citizens of Gondor were hiding in fear of something. Frodo stayed close to me as we journeyed to the top of the winding streets of Minas Tirith. And by extension, Sam stayed close as well. _And I'm sure that will never change, I mused, glancing down at them._

* * *

_**Calathiel**_

Without any elvish grace of any sort, I tripped over the hem of the large dress for what seemed like the twentieth time. I stopped and caught my footing, but was then pushed forwards by the orc behind me.

I dearly wished I was able to lift up the bottom of my long, cumbersome skirts, though it wasn't possible, for my wrists were bound together behind my back. I dismissed the thought, and tried to walk with as much dignity as I could.

Without a warning, the hideous creature stopped infront of an open arch way. It seemed to lead into a large white room. He motioned for me to enter, "In you go, she-elf." I hesitated slightly, and then sprinted off the opposite way, only thinking desperately about getting away. But the orc was too fast. He grabbed my arm, pulling me back, and twisted it in a way that made it feel as if it would pop out of the socket. "Don't try my patients, go!" He whispered harshly, kicking me in the shin. I cried out in pain, unable to bear it anymore and surprisingly he released me.

I fell and skidded inside on my back, the screeching on the polished marble floor unbearable. "Rhachon le…" I seethed, pushing myself back up on to my bare feet. As I entered, the orc took out a short sword and sliced my bonds as I was walking. I felt my wrists cautiously and the rope fell to the ground, and without a word of protest, I entered the archway that lead to the room.

I was surprised to see a long wooden table with an off-white table cloth, covered with around fifty plates of food. A silver plate and a set of silver wear were placed on each end of the table, along with a comfy looking chair that had a high back. I was tempted to go and take something off of a tray, but a feeling that someone was watching me caused me to refrain.

Slowly I turned around to face the archway once again. Four people stood outside the doorway, taking to each other in hushed voices. Since the hallway was dimly lit by only a couple of torches, they all appeared to be silhouettes. Though the tallest person seemed to be an orc, for he was built much thicker than the rest of the men.

I turned back around and noticed a window on the far wall. Desperate to see some sun light, I quickly ran to the beckoning light behind the curtains. I grasped the silky fabric between my thumb and my other fingers, and then pulled it to the side. The weak light of the setting sun touched my face gently, warming it and making me smile. "It's been too long..." I whispered.

I smiled looking at the beautiful view of the Pelanor Fields. They seemed to stretch out over the land until the horizon and maybe beyond. Miles of golden and green streaked with the light of the heavens. _If only I wasn't trapped in these never ending walls of stone_, I thought. Then I realized that no one was watching me. I checked over my shoulder to make sure. _Maybe I could escape and warn them before they get here!_ I dared to hope, surveying the distance between myself and the ground beneath me. It wasn't too far, but I would probably kill my ankles if I landed the wrong way. And I probably wouldn't be able to get past the gates, too.

"Get away from the window!" Barked the same orc, now standing guard at the arched door way. The other men were absent, not a trace of them being there in the first place. I gave him an angered look and did as I was asked. Feeling his hateful glare I walked past the table again, taking my time. A sudden glint caught my eye, drawing me towards its source with curiosity. As I got closer I saw that it was the silver wear, probably catching some of the candle light for a second. Then I was aware of the knife lying next to the shining plate. How could they be so stupid? I smirked, taking another stride to the table.

"Grima Wormtongue will be arriving shortly," the orc informed me, disgust written on his face. _So that's who their master is..._ I put my hand on the corner of the long table, feeling my stomach drop. I didn't wish to even think of what he wanted of me, and tried to ignore the sound in my head yelling, "Hurry up!"

In a swift movement I grabbed the handle of the knife behind my back, and hid it in the many folds of the dress. Then acting as if I didn't do anything, I sauntered away casually. But inside I was growing more and more hesitant to carry out my intentions. "You can do this..." I whispered to myself, my voice quivering. _Aragorn and the others do it all the time; it doesn't seem to bother them... You must go and warn the fellowship!_

With a deep breath, I ran quickly towards the open window once again. "Help me! Help!" I yelled as loud as my lungs permitted me too, flailing my arms as if I was mad. "Please, anyone! Help!" To add to the affect I let out a high scream, which echoed down several levels of the city. Then, just as I had thought, I heard the loud stomps of the orc, clearly panicking that someone would hear me.

As they grew louder, I braced myself and grasped the knife in my sweaty hands. And then, it happened. In a fearful rage, the orc grabbed my shoulder and turned me around with a painful amount of force. He roared, "Do you want both of us to be killed?" I raised the knife above my head ready to strike. I ignored the pang of sympathy, and, with all my might, plunged the blade downwards towards the beast's chest. I shut my eyes closed before the stroke fell, ready to hear shrieks of pain. But instead I was met with laughter.

"I am not as slow as I look," The monster laughed, his hand around the wrist which held the knife, holding it firmly in mid-air. "I'm sure Grima won't take kindly to-" I kicked the orc in the stomach with my heel, surprisingly sending him off me, down onto the marble floor. With a small bonking noise, his head hit the hard floor, knocking him unconscious. I subconsciously let the knife drop to the floor, making a loud haunting clatter.

I waited a long moment, frozen in place, disbelieving what I had done. My hard breathing was the only sound. The silence in the room felt strange and heavy, though a large weight was lifted off my shoulders.

After getting my bearings, I gathered my skirts and stepped over the orc's large, limp body. I glanced down at it for a moment, but then forced myself to go on. For protection, I grabbed the knife from the floor, and placed it into my dress pocket. Get out before Wormtongue arrives! I warned myself, stuffing a hunk of bread and cheese into the other pocket. Sure that I had the necessities, I sprinted to the door and around into the hallway.

Suddenly I hit a large object, but then I looked up and realized it was a man. He wore a navy cloak with its hood drawn, covering his face. Instinctively I drew my knife out, and held it out to the man's face. He drew back and threw his hands up to show he didn't mean any harm. Refusing to believe him, I reached up towards his face and tossed the hood off his face. "Faramir?" I questioned, a faint smile appearing on my face. He nodded hurriedly, and glanced back through the arched doorway.

"You killed it?" He asked, pointing to the orc's body strewn across the marble floor, appearing to be shocked. I tried to not take it offensively, and replied, "I didn't kill him... I did knock him unconscious though..." Faramir grunted low in reply, and began to lead me to a door at the end of the corridor. "How did you find me?" I asked quietly, glancing up at him. "I overheard two guards," he answered simply, but then his tone turned grim. "Your 'friends' arrived here this morning," _Oh dear…no. _My stomach formed an agonizing knot.

I swallowed hard, worry overtaking me. "Do you know if he… _killed_ any of them?" I asked hesitantly, fearing the answer. Faramir shook his head, "I cannot give you a true answer, for I don't know. But I'm sure I would've heard something about it if any of them were." I forced myself to nod and thank him, though I began to feel a burning throb in my chest.

My ankles began to weaken as I stumbled over my own feet. Things were moving when I was not, getting blurry or fading. I was plunging through the tunnel again, falling, falling. "Are you alright?" Faramir asked, his voice slowly fading away. I opened my mouth to speak, but could not find my voice. The floor was getting closer and closer, my vision getting dimmer.

"Come Calatheil, we must get you- Calathiel! Calathiel!"

Darkness. Silence. Pain.

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**I hope you liked it! See you all in a couple of days or as soon as I can get to work!**

**Please, PLEASE comment!  
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	20. Chapter 20 Bleak Hope If Any At All

**Notes: Yay! Chapter 20 already! Sorry it took so long! (Random streamers fall from sky, along with balloons and confetti) What a celebration, right? Lol! But wait! There's more! **

**Anyways, I recieved a beautiful collection of the LOTR series, including The Hobbit, from my dad. The collection includes a wonderful case and each book has Tolkien's original drawings! I think they're from the early 1970's, but it doesn't really matter. I was reading The Fellowship in math class, and my ANNOYING frienemy was like, "Oh! Your reading the Habbit?" And I'm all like, "No! And it's not called the _habbit! _It's the H-O-B-B-I-T." Lol he still firmly believes he is right! Oh well. We need a Hobbit Awareness Association!**

**Also I updated the Story Summary to attract more people, so if you want to you can check that out. Also there's now a full summary back in chapter one now.  
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**Disclaimer: As always, I don't own Lord Of The Rings and never will. But I have that lovely book collection now... YAY!**

**Warnings: None**

**And now I present, the feature presentation! Pleasant reading!  
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* * *

_**Calathiel**_

Aware that I was conscious once again, I let out a mental sigh of relief. _I'm alive, _I assured myself, though I not was somewhat hesitant to believe it. Feeling began to return to by body quickly, as well as my sense of hearing and smell. I was pleased to find the area was silent, pardoning the whistle of the wind that blew every so often. The smell of several-day-old bread met my nose along with some sort of soup and the scent of old parchment. I was also aware that I was lying upon a rather stiff mattress, which was a casualty I had not had in awhile. I took a moment to take in how peaceful it all seemed, and then gently lifted my eyelids.

To my surprise the room was rather barren, as if somewhat had packed up all the things they owned and fled. A lonely and short wooden table was placed diagonally in the right corner. A green fabric was draped down the side with tassels on the ends. Placed on top of the fabric was a small, folded note, a loaf of-once-hot bread, and a filled bowl with a scratched spoon to its side. The sight of food was welcoming, for I hadn't eaten since I was knocked out, and captured. I guessed that when I was last on my own, traveling back to Lorien, was a little more than four days ago, so it was natural for me to feel a twinge of hunger in my stomach. Though I did long for the familiarity of lembas.

To the side of the table was a small pile of parchment. Most were letters—for I could make out _Dear Son of the Steward, _on one and _Dear Brother, _on the one underneath. And scribbled upon the other was a name I could not see because of another sheet which covered it. But the end of the signature read, _of Rohan_. I immediately knew I was in some place of Faramir's, so for the moment I was safe. But then remembering the previous events, I began to doubt the fact.

_Does he know? _I couldn't help but wondering. Though it would not be horrid if he knew, for he seemed as if he would play a rather large role in the upcoming events. _You should not give your trust away so freely, _I reminded myself grimly.

Fearing the worst, I untied the knot I had tied on the black corset, and loosened it up. Having been able to pull the article of clothing away, I lifted the white chemise up only a couple of inches. _Yes, it's there, _I thought peering down at the cause of all of this. The black poison had spread by a considerable amount, climbing farther away from the stone with the desire to kill. Not wishing to think of such things, I pulled up the chemise higher and retied the corset. Though I made sure to make the laces much loser.

Tenderly, I lifted my back off of the stiff pillows, prepared for great pain. But to my delight, none came. With a little more confidence, I shifted my direction on the simple wooden bed, to dangle my legs over the side. My bare feet, now covered in many blisters, touched the cold marble. I shivered a bit from the feeling and then pushed myself up to stand.

I carelessly gathered the annoyingly large and heavy skirts into a hand, and then made my way towards the table. Bending down slowly, I looked into the contents of the soup, then decided I preferred not to try it. After a short glance at the loaf of bread, I lifted the folded note off the cloth then pried it open.

_Calathiel,_

_After you had collapsed last time we met, I immediately took you here—a place I had been staying at or hiding (depending on the situation) since the White Wizard and his puppet came. _

_I recently saw your 'friends' passing by the streets. They were in the custody of Gondorian soldiers, being taken to Saruman and my father. If I do not happen to be with you at this time, I have probably chased after them._

_As I was trying to get you out of the orc's sight, I had found sword and you pack lying out to be disposed of or for other purposes beyond my guesses. I do not know if they belong to you, but you may find them in the hallway. I pray you are alright._

_-Faramir_

I set the note down, not sure of what to make of it. I deep in thought, I reached down to grasp a piece of bread, when a certain thought crossed my mind. I jerked my hand away from the loaf and lifted up the small sheet of parchment. The smell of newly used ink was brought to my attention as soon as I did. Maybe only used about a half an hour before I awoke.

Quickly I set the note down and hastily turned on my heel and went out the open archway of the small room. After lightly walking over the uneven stone floor, I saw my sword in its sheath along with my light green pack, though it looked much emptier than before they searched it. Still I found myself smiling slightly.

After gathering my things and finishing the loaf of bread along with the newly discovered piece of cheese and more bread I had in my dress pocket, I carefully walked towards the door. One of which I knew would lead to the streets. As I began to reach out for the dull door knob, I tripped over the hem of the dress once again. "Daro i!" I growled, trying to straighten out the cumbersome layers of material. _I cannot wear this cursed thing any longer, _I decided, dropping my sword back to the ground.

I stepped back out into the hallway and looked down it in search of another room. I was displeased to have found none. But then I noticed a rather small trunk on the opposite wall. I lifted it up carefully and gave a small exhale of triumph.

* * *

_**Eowyn**_

"_Uncle! Please, please, please… Don't leave me! Not now!" His lifeless form stood still, and hauntingly silent. With no reply, I found myself breaking into silent tears. As much as I wished to stifle them, I did not have the will anymore. "King Theoden!" I attempted, gently holding his shoulders in my hands. His head lolled to the left, but not by his own doing. _

_Then a wave of overcoming emotion flooded me. "You cannot leave me! You cannot abandon your people now!" I shook him slightly, as if he were just sleeping. But I could never hide the truth from my own self. _

"_No…" Was all I could utter as I set him back on to his deathbed. He looked as if in so much pain; his brow furrowed in agony, his mouth slightly ajar as if to yell. His eyelids, crumpled with force. And his face, strained and wrinkled with the poison of Grima. I turned my face away, for I could not bear it any longer._

_Suddenly, in a short second of chestnut furs, that man—that repulsive being, passed by the door with an evil smirk across his horrid face. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as I clenched my fists so hard turning my knuckles white. _It's his fault!

_Without thinking much at all, I stood up and made for the door in a desperate mixture of dolefulness and raw hatred. In the process the wooden stool I had been sitting on clattered to the dirty ground. I didn't give it more than a second of thought, as my sights were set on revenge or something stronger._

_I turned out of the door frame, and strode with great force down the corridor of which I saw _him _turn down. And as I had guessed, he was there. He walked as if there was nothing wrong, unsuspecting the danger that was about to befall him. _

_I lunged forwards at him, grabbing his shoulders tightly, unlike the way I held Uncle. I felt him jump, but I was already onto pushing him into the wall. "Look what you have done!" I screamed at him, another tear sliding down my cheek. "You killed him... You killed Rohan!" In all my furry I slapped him with all the emotions I felt inside. To my frustration, the worm did not react at all. Trying to control myself, I breathed heavily, glaring at his forming sinister smirk—which didn't seem to disappear or falter._

"_Oh Eowyn…" He purred, pulling up a hand and wiping my tear away with his grubby hand. "Do not dare touch me, you-" I whispered harshly, shaking it off, my grip on him tightening. But he did not shut up. "Why must you fight when you have already lost the battle? It only gets you into deeper trouble…" The desire to strangle him was growing in my mind. But then two pairs of arms pulled me away from him. _

_I looked into the eyes of the men holding me back, realizing I had recognized them. _How could they do this?

"_Lock her in her room… for now." Grima said shakily, turning as if he wasn't just close to being strangled to death. Purposely he kept his back to us and lurked away. "I shall never stop fighting, not until you are dead!" I yelled, trying to break away from the two men. Wormtongue stopped and shot a quick look at me, with made my blood curdle._

_I struggled violently, yelling and shouting. _They'll never let you escape, if they can help it…_ I knew and dreaded. As I was dragged backwards, I began to see the once marvelous place I called home became more of a prison. For the walls were to keep me from leaving, and not for protection. It was no longer my home, not anymore. _

* * *

As we began to near another pair of large, thick doors, I found it hard to keep control of myself. We had just realized we had walked straight into a trap placed by the ring, and yet it was too late. We didn't have time to run, and didn't dare to fight them, for they could be decent men. So willingly, we allowed them to force us to travel with them to an unknown location. But soon I began to feel my heart pick up speed. I found some comfort walking closely in-between Aragorn and my brother, with poor Merry following behind.

No, I was not afraid—not for myself at least. I feared neither death nor pain, and always would. I promised myself that I would fight 'till the end, when it came at last. I would fight for Rohan, and my uncle. That was the least I could do for them…

Boromir gave a thin, reassuring glance towards Aragorn, as if to say that he would be able to prevent whatever danger was approaching us. But his face couldn't hide what he truly felt. Aragorn gave a slight nod, and Boromir turned his head back to face forward. But I couldn't help but notice that his eyes lingered on Frodo, and his face turned expressionless.

Suddenly I could feel my brother's breath on my ear. "These men are frightened, terribly…" He whispered hoarsely into my ear. I pulled away from him slightly. "Yes," I replied in a voice a bit louder than intended. "They don't wish to be doing this… you can see it on their faces. But something is forcing them…" I drew my arms up around my shoulders as another breeze swept through the area.

"Do you know where they are taking us?" Pippin asked with a very small and timid whisper, causing Boromir to glance down. He did not answer the hobbit. Only grimace strangely, in a way that made me watch him with a questioning stare. Aragorn muttered something to himself as Boromir continued to walk.

I leaned towards Aragorn and whispered worriedly, "Why does he keep—" But my question was not to be answered for the Gondorian soldiers halted around us. I looked upwards and realized we had finally arrived at the two large doors. I gripped the hilt of the sword tighter as my brother raised an arm to stop me from continuing to walk.

Another five soldiers stood guard at the tall doors, avoiding eye contact with all of us. The one standing second from the right took a small shuffle in front of our large company. With a nervous glance to the other men on either side of him he cleared his throat and spoke up. "If… if you c-could hand over you weapons…" _So they do plan to recapture us! _I thought exhaling loudly.

The scared man motioned to a long marble table. I looked at it, my eyes growing larger. I was certainly _not _going to let them take me without giving a fight. Those the soldiers were probably innocent men, we could not allow the ring to be taken to Sauron for this.

As they began to usher myself and the fellowship towards the table, I counted each one of them though I knew the number would be too great. _Twenty too many, _I cursed. "Come along, My Lady," A soldier urged, giving me a polite nudge to move forward. This made Eomer turn around without missing a beat. I nodded to him to show him I was alright, and then made my rash move. For I had made up my mind already.

* * *

**I hope I pleased all of my Eowyn fans out there. I really should've done her POV awhile ago. Hope you liked it. And PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment. Thanks in advance as always!**


	21. Chapter 21 Short Reunions Fast Depatures

**Random Notes: Well it's nice to see you guys again, and that's the truth! For some reason I had a really hard time on this chapter, meaning lots of writers block! (I know! So much fun!) But I'm sure all of you authors can relate to me! **

**I'm sure you all don't care, but I am currently re-re-reading the series again. So I'll probably be able to stick more stuff in from the book. Also, I will be helping out at outdoor ed. (It's like science camp for 2 nights and 3 days. Middle School-ers go, normally.) this year for the younger kids, so I might be set back a bit. But hopefully I'll get right back to writing! Also, I finally am doing responses to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Hallelujah! So if you review, you get your response (from yours truly) in the next chapter! I apologize for those who reviewed earlier, but I am only doing last chapters reviews.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings anything. There, I said it.**

**Warnings: I described the Nazgul and their dragon things the way I pictured them. I couldn't find the book, and my internet was down, so I couldn't get any info, ok! I have no idea if my description is correct, but just go with it please. Thanks for understanding!  
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**Enjoy!  
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_**Calathiel**_

Tentatively I pulled the door that lead outside open, making several squeaks and groans come from the aged hinges. I my eye against a crack and scanned the street. _Where is everyone? _I thought, pulling away. Then my elf ears began to pick up the faint rustle of material from the flat next door, and the hushed voices all around. _They're here… and cowering in fear of Saruman… _I answered my own question gravely. For maybe if they weren't so frightened, they would prove to be useful.

Satisfied with what I saw, I pulled away from the door, which now stood ajar. As a sudden thought crossed my mind, my gaze fell down upon my own self. _You look as if you were a stable boy, _was my first thought. Unable to have found anything more suitable, I had decided upon borrowing a pair of light brown trousers from Faramir (who I hoped didn't mind). The article of clothing was rather large; forcing me rolling the hem up to my knees and tying a piece of twine around my waist as a belt. Along with the pestering dress, I discarded my corset and under skirts, leaving me with a plain white chemise as a shirt. Which was also several sizes too big for me.

Not to any great surprise, but the clothing made it much easier to move around, and would hopefully allow me to run at a greater speed. Though I couldn't help but feel foreign to the clothing I donned.

After securing my sword to my side, and taking another bite of bread, I slung my pack over my shoulder quickly and then slipped out of the door without a sound. Carefully, I took several light steps onto the street. These steps made shivers run down my spine, for not having found any shoes, I decided to go barefoot. The unfamiliar cobblestone felt coarse and rough on my skin. And like the rest of the stone that made up the city, it was cold.

"And now," I whispered to myself in elvish, knowing that none would be around to hear, "Where to search?" The thought was quite intimidating, knowing that the fellowship could be anywhere in this large maze filled with enemies. And that finding them wouldn't be the hardest part even. They were still probably being heavily guarded, or locked up, _or dead. _I reminded myself. The thought of it made me drop my posture slightly.

"It's Saruman, isn't it... isn't it… isn't it…?" Echoed faintly down the alley to my right. The voice was blunt and brave, having the lighter sound of which could only belong to a female. _Eowyn? _I took a large stride towards the direction of which it came. The ground beneath me seemed to rise upwards as it went further. _They're being taken to Saruman! _I realized, knowing that he would probably be with The Steward.

Then my ears began to pick up a gruff male voice, weighed down with slight annoyance and fear. "Move along M'lady," He managed to get out. His final words echoed off the tall walls of the towers and structures until it faded into nothing. "No!" She yelled slightly louder, the copy of her voice repeating then fading. _Yes that's Eowyn, _I exhaled deeply and began to quickly sprint towards her voice.

_She's with the others,_ I determined as I picked up my pace. For the easily distinguishing sound of breathing was loud, and came and left at different times, overlapping. This meant that there were many people in the area. By the sound, it appeared that they were about three quarters of a mile away, but knowing the maze like streets, it could take much longer. _At least their alive, _I tried to think positively.

"Why should you be afraid of them?" Eowyn's voice rose once again. "Eowyn, please—" Eomer or Aragorn (I couldn't pick out which) tried to sooth her, the tone of his voice slightly worried, wishing to keep her from any harm.

_Fwomp, womp. Fwomp. _

I stopped. The sound was barely even audible. I, even with my strong sense of hearing, could not make out if it was my own imagination or not. _Is that the flapping of wings? _I looked towards the sky behind me, facing towards the Pelanor Fields.

I squinted slightly focusing in on several blurry objects just coming over the horizon. After a several seconds, they began to form into nine tiny black circles which dotted the overcast skies. They moved way to fast to be any sort of bird.

_Nine._

A wave of realization hit me like a stone wall. My hand found its way to the hilt of my sword as I tried to ignore the growing pit in my stomach.I clambered to turn around and found myself running full out in large strides. I did not give a care about the large neckline of the chemise falling down my shoulder, for the feeling of mortal danger was overcoming me.

* * *

Eowyn shot her brother a glance, and then tried to shake off the gloved hand of the soldier. As if a reflex, Eomer stepped forward trying to compose his anger. "Do not touch her," He commanded fiercely, his eyes flashing in warning. The soldier eyed him anxiously then let his grasp fail. Eomer stepped back hesitantly still eyeing him, who did the same.

Eowyn turned back towards the stone table, of which now held Pippin's short sword. Merry stood in front of its rim, slowly unbuckling the belt which held his own. He aimed a hostile glace to the guard standing behind him, and then put his short sword on the table as well. Pippin looked as if he, himself would reach out and claim the blades again, but began to back away.

Next, Boromir moved forward, biting his lower lip. His sword lay in his arms, as if he was cradling it. He too, looked as if he wouldn't surrender his treasured sword. The son of the Steward looked down upon the weapon, and then suddenly looked up. "How dare you do this!" He yelled, the level of the volume of his voice quite loud. "I shall say this once more! I am—"

"Calathiel!" Sam cried from the opposite end of their new formed group. He flung his arm towards the street way, as the large companies head's turned. And indeed, there she was; running bear-footed and at a very fast pace. She had a desperate and fearful look across her normally unreadable face, even as she began to near the group.

"That's the she-elf!" One of the Gondorian soldiers exclaimed to another, which was brought to the immediate attention of Aragorn and Legolas. "Weren't we supposed to be searching for her?"

"You're… alive…" She stated breathlessly as she stopped several yards away from them. "And you are as well," Legolas answered simply. The she-elf began to feel the eyes of the company, probably noticing the fact she was in men's garb. Calathiel chose to ignore their stares. "It was stupid and foolish to come here!" She said with slight dismay, more worry growing in her expression. Two of the soldiers began to move forward, in her direction.

"Were did you go? And what happened?" Asked Merry quickly, voicing the question of the whole fellowship. "It—well…" Calathiel stared at the soldiers for a moment and then began to edge closer to the fellowship, drawing her sword. "It's a very long story of which I barely understand." She managed to get out, looking up at the sky fearfully.

"Is Faramir here?" She asked with the slightest look of hope bringing down her head sharply. She searched the faces of each of the members finally landing on Boromir. "You know of my brother?" He asked his brow furrowed in confusion. Calathiel shook her head, sending her loose hair flying in the wind. "Yes, yes, yes." She replied quickly, walking closer and farther away from the pursuing soldiers.

"I shall answer other questions in time," The elf said as Aragorn's mouth opened to speak. "But there are much more pressing matters…" She turned grimly up to the sky then back again. "They're coming!" She whispered to herself like a snake's hiss. Legolas stared at her reading her thoughts, and staring briefly at the clouded heavens.

"What do you—" Pippin asked with strong concern in his voice, though Calathiel knew they didn't have time for answers. Pressing past the question, she walked over to where Sam and Frodo stood, at the edge of the clump. "What were those things you told me about, Frodo?" She asked quickly looking down upon him, "The riders in black… they, um, chased you from the Shire, correct?" The troubled hobbit returned her stare in puzzlement. "You mean—"

"The Nazgûl; ring wraiths." Aragorn confirmed, just as he had at the Prancing Pony. Calathiel shifted her emerald eyes to his direction and nodded. "Their nightmarish steeds aren't winged, are they?" She asked, her question filling dread upon each who began to understand.

Suddenly the most unbearable, ear bleeding scream filled the air, reaching an unworldly level of highness and volume. Everyone's hands flew to cover their ears as they let out cries of agony. The cowering citizens of Minas Tirith began to yell and shout, mortal terror becoming them. A handful of nearby shutters opened as confused and frightened peasants tried to find the source of the indescribable noise.

Amidst all the noise and panic, Legolas suddenly yelled, "Get under cover, now!" No sooner had he spoken the words than the fellowship began to scatter; Calathiel, Sam, Frodo, and Aragorn towards the cobbled street in which Calathiel came from, the rest in the other direction. Some of their guards lay clutching their ears; while others ran in circles sure that the world had come to an end.

As a horn bellowed atop the highest levels of Minas Tirith, another atrocious shriek attacked the ears of all. The growing screams of the surrounding peasants were no help at all, though the fellowship could not blame a single one of them. Just as people began to come out of their doors, Aragorn looked up and his eyes widened.

Suddenly, a large crumbling noise was brought to the attention of the company, making them, along with the remaining soldiers turn around. What met their eyes even made Eowyn the slightest bit frightened. For a large, four-floored tower was starting to crack under the weight of the beastly creature they all had begun to dread. It had the build of a dragon; a long neck, thick but shorter torso, gigantic clawed wings which were the size of the creature its self and daunting claws at the ends of each muscled arm or leg. Though this creature was not like a dragon in many ways (compared to Bilbo's description of dragons). Instead of small scales, neatly folded on top of one another, the beast had pitch black armor-like sections of skin which looked as if not a single blade could pierce it. It also did not have a face, rather a head with only a mouth and two slots for a nose. The animal's teeth were plain horror by themselves; each tooth being at least the size of a typical blade.

As they all expected (and feared) a black rider sat upon the saddle of the fell-beast. His death black garments billowed eerily in the wind, as if a warning. He bore his deathly silver sword like a torch, brandishing it for all to see and fear. It shone dimly hungering for blood to be shed. After a short hiss, which made shivers run down the spine, the Nazgul looked down to the reigns in his claws. He pulled them back with a whip of his hand, and his nightmarish steed sprung from the tower.

With a slight groan, the tower dropped several feet, crushing the stone supporting the bottom floors. A couple chunks of the heavy material plummeted to the ground with loud _thwack_s! With a slight shower of tiny particles of the stone, the tower lurched forwards, and began to grow larger with only a matter of seconds.

"Get down!" Yelled Aragorn with an uncanny desperation in his voice. As he said this, he grabbed the shoulders of Sam and Frodo, picking up his pace. He could not tell where the others were at the moment; his mind set on only getting himself away, his eyes set on the ground in front of him and the tower collapsing behind him. It was getting closer… and closer… so frighteningly close… deadly close…

* * *

"What is it, Grima?" Saruman commanded, turning from his window in a billow of white cloth. His thin and greasy haired servant stepped closer, trembling with either fear or excitement. "The—the Nazgul have arrived, Master…" He bowed slightly as he said this.

The wizard looked at Wormtongue for a moment, and then turned back to the window. "Yes, I know that!" He yelled angrily, ready to strike the man.

"Yes, yes," Wormtongue nodded, his voice growing impatient as well. "But they are attacking the… the city!"

Saruman laughed in his deep booming voice, still facing the mirror. "Ah, you are worried for the people, Grima? I always knew you were too soft..." "No!" The servant took a step forwards, "I worry for us, Master! Look what they are doing out there!" Wormtongue respectfully joined him by the window, gesturing towards a collapsing tower in the distance. "We shall surely—" The wizard turned to Wormtongue once again and noted his trembling. "Grima! Do not be a fool! Through the palantir I told them of our location, and they swore to leave us be."

After a long moment of uneasy silence, Wormtongue let fly his last question. "But why do they come to destroy though we have full control?" "Perhaps you are not as clever as I had assumed," Saruman said bluntly, though then changed his tone. "The world of men… is now coming to a close. As you had told me, Rohan fell. Gondor was of the last… And now shall be the last."

* * *

**Yep. A cliffhanger. Sorry folks! **

**Now on to my responses!**

**Thank you to DivaSister1, skimmboardergurl, SupportTheArts, and Haldir's lady for either subscribing this to their story or author alerts, or for adding it to their favorites! Welcome to the gang and we're all pleased to have you! And thank you to everyone else who joined!**

**Now for the reviews!**

**Song in the woods: I'm so glad you liked it! You know, Eowyn is personally one of my favorite characters, so I really wanted to do her justice. I was actually kinda worried all of her fans would hate me because I messed it up. But I'm really glad you enjoyed it and its comforting to know I did well! I hope that everything isn't getting too confusing now that its picking up momentum and that multiple things are happening now. It's always a pleasure to hear from you, and I'm so glad you keep following the story! Thank you!**

**Haldir's lady: Short, sweet, and strait to the point; That's what I always say! Glad you enjoyed it, and I hope to see you in later chapters!**

**Luna Elen: What a surprise! Haha! Always glad to hear from you! Again with what I said to Song in the woods (I believe you two have met correct?) I really wanted to do her justice, cause she really is a great character! As I was publishing it, I freaked that I messed her up, so its good to know I didn't! Yep... my frenemy is very stupid. Thankfully he now knows it _is _the "Hobbit" so now I can yell at him down the hallway, "HOW'S THE HABBIT?" Everyone looks at me like I'm crazy but it doesn't bother me. Like today I was goofing around and yelled to my friend, "HEY, I LIKE YOUR SHIRT!" Everyone- And I mean everyone, stared at me. I laughed so hard! I know! I can't wait to see "The Hobbit" movie! I heard that JP is adding an elf girl somehow to it (an actual MarySue). I got really upset cause don't you think that would ruin it? Oh well. I think he's being attacked on Face Book for it, so maybe he'll change his mind. Until next time, friend!**

**Adios my readers, next chapter awaits along with the great(ish) outdoors! And please review!  
**


	22. Chapter 22 Shattered

**Random Notes: I know, I know, I didn't intend for this chapter to take so long. I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting. My community pool was opening (and I had to be the first person in), and the parades, and carnivals, and awful sunburns so I was very busy. **

**But, you see I _was _actually doing something productive in between writing. Remember like 15 chapters ago, I said I drew some pictures of Calathiel and then kinda just forgot about it? Well I think I got rid of that, but anyways, I actually did draw some pictures of Calathiel and so I set up a blog to display them. Visit my profile page to find the link. And comments would be very welcomed! Though I warn you, I'm not the best drawer... tehehe!**

**Warnings****: Um, none.**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own LOTR anything, because as you see I'm clearly not J R R Tolkien- I'm Lightnin Spark!**

**Enjoy! **

* * *

_**Frodo **_

The crash of the stone tower rang in my ears long after it landed on the street. Slowly, it began to die out, and was replaced with screams and cried of woe from the terrorized men, along with the sounds of shifting rocks. Though I could not see it—for my eyes were shut closed and my head buried in my arms—small pieces of rubble covered my legs and a portion of my right arm. I could sense the presence of Sam and Strider on either side of me, and perhaps Calathiel a couple feet away from my heels. All breathed heavily, beginning to move from the positions of which they hurled themselves into.

I raised my chin slightly from my folded arms, sending tiny grains of crumbled rock down the side of my head. My vision was clouded with a thin layer of dust, which rose from the debris. I flapped my hand agitatedly to get it to clear. As I began to feel it at the back of my throat, I let a painful cough escape my mouth, putting my fist up to my mouth.

Wiping my brow with the hem of my already dirtied sleeve, I turned my head towards the other side of where the monstrous tower fell. I squinted in hopes of being able to make out anyone, but soon I found it was in vain. The only thing I could see was the collapsed tower laying like a small wall upon the street only a couple paces away. _Is everyone else on the other side? Are they… alive? _At my own question I stiffened for a moment. Ignoring the thought for my own good, I tried to press on. Though knowing not what else to do, I began to push myself onto my knees.

Right before I could seat myself down, Aragorn groaned loudly. I turned my head to face him as he brought his chest from the ground. "Are you alright?" He asked gruffly, putting his elbows down to support himself. I nodded quickly looking down upon rubble covered ground.

A sudden pulse ran through the air for a brief second. Aragorn looked at me with gritted teeth, nodding up to the heavens. I paused a moment, pondering whether or not to ask him what was happening. Then, as they had seconds earlier, my ears started to tingle slightly, and then began to burn as if on fire. Before I could through my hands to my hands to my head, that disturbing noise—that scream that defined terror, shot through me like an arrow. My whole body felt numb, and could barely react to the pain. Though I was able to let out a strained cry.

After what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. A huge shadow passed over the area sending another wave of cries from the big folk. Unable to think of any other ideas, they seemed to be fleeing in each direction they could, gathering their children, and taking what they could. Only, maybe thirty at the most, remained now, but even they seemed to be leaving quickly. All at once I began to feel as if their fear was my own.

"We cannot tarry here long." Calathiel's voice stated quite calmly behind me. I spun around quickly to meet her emerald eyes gazing down at me. She stood with one hand upon the hilt of her sword and the other grasping her shoulder. Her face was somewhat drawn; paler than normal though covered with a thin layer of dirt and dust. Tucking a forelock of hair behind her pointed ear, she offered me a slight nod, and then quickly paced over to Aragorn and began talking to him in elvish. I now knew why some called elves noiseless and unable to be sensed.

I tried to understand their conversation, as it became apparent that both were either getting worried or frustrated under the pressure of time— though no one was really rushing them. I could pick out short phrases like "please, you must," and "I can't!" though the whole topic of their rushed, whispering voices.

My attention was now brought to Sam, who seemed to be coming out of his shock. In a slight shower of crumbled marble, he sprung to his knees quickly. "What—what happened?" He asked, turning his head from side to side while looking to the sky with a fearful expression. "Sam—" I started, but he had already realized my presence. "Mr. Frodo!" He cried with a small flash of joy. But it soon disappeared as another dark shadow passed overhead.

Sam shuddered as his face fell, "I thought we were rid of those… those demons…" He muttered to me as he pulled his pack up on to his back. I nodded bitterly, for that had been my exact thought. When they had been drowned before we had reached Rivendell, it had been like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. Knowing that they weren't out there for the moment was comforting, though I always knew—Gandalf always knew, they would return. I just prayed we would be left without their presence for longer.

"'ey," Sam spoke quietly, pointing his index finger towards at Aragorn and Calathiel, "What are they talkin' about?" I paused for a moment. "I don't know, Sam." I admitted. "Bilbo could only teach me so much Sindarin, you know." I let out a small sigh, and then got to my feet, trying not to think of Bilbo, or the Shire. Without so much as a thought, Sam followed suit.

After a couple quick steps towards the two, Aragorn stopped mid-way through a sentence and turned his head towards us. "Give me your packs, please, both of you," He said offering a hand out. With little hesitation I slung the bag off my shoulder and passed it to the former Ranger. Sam did the same, though he did not wait for his questions to be answered. "What's wrong with 'em?" He asked as Aragorn took his own pack off, and opened the top.

Calathiel passed by them at a swift jog, clearly having heard something, and then climbed towards the top of the remains of the tower. She paused for a moment at the top, squinting up at the highest level of the city. In no less than five minutes, she sprang back down to the cobble stone, wincing at the feeling of it on her bare feet.

"Lasto," she spoke in a voice just above a whisper, looking over her shoulder to the empty alleyway. Aragorn nodded, and froze in his position for a moment. "He's sending out his orcs, many of them." Calathiel informed us, to which Strider confirmed. The elf edged back to the fallen tower with caution, starting to look over it again.

Aragorn looked back down upon the opened packs and dug his hand into his own. "You must get out," He replied regretfully, stuffing all the lembas he had into each of our bags.

"Put you're coming along with us, right Strider? The whole fellowship…" Sam asked as he moved forwards, now with growing concern in his expression. I put my hand on his shoulder, beginning to understand what was going on. _But how does he believe that only two hobbits could ever destroy the one of the greatest sources of evil? He couldn't possibly think that we could prevent our world from ending… _

_**Aragorn**_

I handed Sam back his and Frodo's packs, now filled with all the supplies I could (and some I could not) do without. Sam stared at me with a hurt confusion, which I could only respond in an apologetic smile. "The ring must get out of here as soon as able. All ten of us won't be able to escape the Nazgûl and their fell-beasts, and certainly not while Saruman is sending his orcs as well." I explained quietly and quickly. "You will have a much stronger chance of getting out of here alive. I would come with you, for I swore to protect you, but now I see that the ring is no longer in my hands. It is up to you Frodo, and it always has been."

Letting out a sigh I got on to my knees to meet them eye-level. "You three will have a better chance—" "Three?" questioned Frodo softly, raising an eyebrow. I nodded in response, "Calathiel will be going with you." A wave of relief washed over Sam's face.

Hearing the mention of her name, Calathiel joined us once again. "Do you still have that elvish rope, Sam?" She asked him, to Sam's surprise. "You—you mean you actually have a use for it?" He stuttered, bringing it out of his pack and handing it to the elf. "We'll probably have to scale the Great Wall… so yes."

Before Sam could reply, Calathiel swiftly dropped the rope and clutched her ears, squinting her eyes close. Just after that instant, to the consternation of all in Minas Tirith, the scream of the Ring Wraiths rose once again to the frequency of that men and hobbits could hear. A chorus of more cries of fear came from the lower of levels, as if on cue.

"Tiro!" She cried pointing one hand at the sky positioned above a level higher than the one we stood on. I followed her finger to see the silhouette of a Nazgûl and the monster it rode shoot through the sky, a large circular bolder in the claws of the beast. With a thunder-like growl, it was flung from the creature's grasp, flying in mid-air. It's crash was hidden from view, but the crash and the screams were devastating.

As soon as the noise died out a bit, I took several brisk steps towards Calathiel and unsheathed Andúril. She turned around at the sound of the metal sliding against the leather scabbard, and then looked down from the sword to me. "_Take it_," I said through gritted teeth in elvish. She backed away from me, shaking her head 'no'. "_You know it yourself; you will die if you don't stab the stone with it!_" I urged her, facing the hilt of the sword out for her to take. "_You will die in battle if you do not have it as well!" _She took another step back. "_You are the heir of Isildur! Your life is much more valuable than mine!" _Another loud crash echoed from the lower levels below.

A sudden idea crossed my mind. _A stupid idea, _I knew, _but an idea none the less. _"Maybe it doesn't have to be one, or the other," I thought out loud, the heavy sound of orc feet beginning to get louder. Gently, I laid Andúil down upon the cobble stone, and managed to grab a small but heavy piece of broken stone. I held it with a bit of effort, poised above the blade, trying not to think about what I was doing. "What are you doing?" Frodo asked, utterly bewildered. I decided not to explain my thoughts. With a deep breath, I let the stone drop.

* * *

_**Lasto**_** means "listen" in Sindarin**

_**Tiro **_**means "look" in Sindarin**

_**Special thanks to **__** for all elvish found in the book **_

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**I was very disappointed to find that only one person commented! Lets hope that changes in this chapter! So please comment. They really help improve my writing!  
**

**Song in the woods- I personally believed that Rohan and Gondor kinda were linked, being in that they were really the last civilizations of men still standing. So if one would fall the other one would too. Like dominoes! That reminds me, do you know Dominoes Pizza? Idk if you have them were you live, but I got some pizza from them at one of the carnivals, and I got a horrible stomach ache. Yep... not my favorite pizza place... Have a wonderful memorial day! And see you next chapter! **

**Happy memorial day folks! Remember please review and check out the drawings I posted! (the link to the site with my drawings can be found on my profile!)**


	23. Chapter 23 The Real Journey Begins

**Random Notes: First things first, right? I am extremely sorry for taking so long to finish this chapter. I rewrote it three times, in different POV's or in completely different places (like everyone else on the other side of the tower) but ended up writing for Sam, which I hope makes you guys happy. And I actually stayed in his POV through the whole chapter! Yay! The other reason this took so long was because of ending exams. But today was the last day of school for me, so again HUZZAH! **

**But here's the bad news; I'm going to *sniff, sniff* go off to sleep-away camp. (My first year as a counselor, cool right?) Which means I can't do updates for a while. So I'm thinking late July/early August. This probably will be my last update for a while, but I will try to get one in quickly! Thank you for all for bearing with me!**

**Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own it. Never have and never will.**

**Inspirational Quote of the Day:* "To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping" ~_Anonymous _**

**Warnings: Uh... just the normal stuff. Nothing too new.**

**Enjoy my friends! Consider this the end of "Part 1"_  
_**

* * *

_**Sam**_

"Mr. Frodo!" I cried, sliding clumsily along the cobble stone barely able to keep my footing. I was completely terrified at that point. Nazgûl seemed to be demolishing everything no matter where you looked. All the big folk were beyond mortified, the fear seemed to make them numb, causing them to just run, with no direction or thought. Though I felt the same way—well… maybe even a bit worse, it didn't help anyone much. Really, it made it all the more dangerous by throwing in the possibility of being trampled among other far worse things.

"Sam, you must keep up!" Calathiel called from somewhere ahead, more like begging me than yelling at me. "The orcs…" She stared, but her voice was drowned out by the all the screams and shouts of the people. _Oh if I only had longer legs! _I cursed in my mind, stumbling into the side of a tipped over cart.

In plain exhaustion I doubled over and tried to steady my breathing. Though I found it quite difficult as I suddenly realized Calathiel and Frodo were probably still running. I stood upright as soon as this thought crossed my mind, then darted off again at the fastest speed possible. They couldn't be that far away could they? It didn't matter. I would follow Mr. Frodo until my dying day, whether he liked it or not. With him being the ring-bearer and all this dark stuff, he would need someone watching out for him, and I had taken it upon myself to do just that.

Before I could look up from my feet, I felt small hands grab my arm and pull me to along. "Be mindful of where you're going," Calathiel said looking down at me and releasing my arm. Just as she said this Frodo came up behind her, looking a bit out of breath and very pale.

"I hate to be pushing you this hard, both of you." She apologized, stopping reading our tired expressions. "We are nearly—"

The ground seemed to quake beneath my very feet as another ring-wraith scream came from the other side of the houses we stood before. I clutched my ears to try and block out that unbearable noise, but it was to no help. Calathiel scrunched her eyes closed, and opened her mouth as if to yell. Then my vision was turned to my Master. To my horror, Frodo cried out and dropped to his knees holding the ring on the chain in his fist. His eyes rolled upwards as his head lulled back and forth. I took a step towards him just as the cry ended.

Frodo sunk further down onto the cobblestone, now shutting his eyes and breathing real strange-like. I reached out to help him get back onto his feet again, but strangely out of character, he shoved my hand away. Calathiel looked from him to me for a moment before stating quietly to me, "He's not in his right mind, Sam." I nodded; worry overtaking me and not knowing what else to do.

Calathiel paused for a second, and then turned her head towards the line of buildings we stood next to. Her expression turned fearful as she listened carefully. "The winged Nazgûl can sense the presence of the ring… They will soon realize that only brick and stone stand in their way! Oh we shouldn't have tarried here!" The elf drew out her sword, and then paused again, bringing the blade downwards hesitantly. I strained my ears for a moment, trying to find out what she was hearing. The most I could pick up among the havoc was the clanging of metal against metal and very loud stomps.

"It is leaving now, the beast. It appears that a group of soldiers are trying to fight it off. I pray they realize their mistake before it's too late." She bit her lower lip looking back up towards the skies as another shadow darted by overhead.

At that moment Frodo took a sharp intake of breath, and opened his eyes again. "They're looking for it; searching for it… they know I have it…" He whispered obviously very frightened. He blinked quickly shaking his head, looking up at me and Calathiel. He bent his head forward then, letting his chin fall to his chest, "We must go on if we wish to have any chance of escape." _What evil things is that ring doing to him? _I thought, furrowing my brow. With that I offered him my hand once again, which he took with a slight look of relief.

"You aren't in a proper state to be—" I tried, already knowing how he'd respond.

"I'll be fine, Sam, I'm getting better right this moment. Look, I'm standing now," he offered me a weak smile getting up as he said so. But the gesture only lasted a mere second for his expression began to fall grim once again. "But it is not as if we really have a choice…"

"Yes, we don't have that casualty. But that cannot be helped now," The she-elf said with a sigh, coming up behind us. "The Great Gate appears to be very close now. The Pelennor Fields won't give us any cover at all, leaving us naked against them. We'll have to find a patch of forest as soon as we get out of the city so we can hide from the view of those flying nightmares. Hopefully they'll leave as soon as they realize the ring isn't here, letting us begin our journey to Mordor. If they don't then… we will have to make a decision at that moment."

She walked no more than eight paces away from us, then turned back to face us. Her green eyes seemed to express that she truly was worn down as well, Galadriel's sword in her hand glistening like a small light, trying to show us a bit of hope. I looked towards my master, my great friend. He nodded wearily, and brought his pack higher up on his back. And as another unendurable Nazgûl cry rang out through the streets of Minas Tirith, we set off once again.

* * *

My heart raced, pounding like a drum loud in my ears. It was accompanied by my loud wheezes of breath, which also seemed much louder than normal. It seemed that at any second, a black demon could come swooping down from the skies, and devour me in one bite. Putting one foot in front of another had become less important, now only thinking about getting under cover. Even the red sunset was discarded from my attention.

Though as I continued running and running the gravity of our choice seemed to descend upon me, earning a firm spot in my thoughts. We had abandoned the company, broken the fellowship. But why? _Well we didn't have enough time to gather everyone else up and leave, and besides Aragorn, Eomer, Eowyn and Boromir had business in Gondor._ But still… Well perhaps Frodo or Calathiel knew why Aragorn let us— or really told us to leave.

A sudden run-in with a thin bush covered with many a green leave woke me from my thoughts. I looked up immediately to find that indeed we had broken the tree line, and had made quite a distance further into the small forest—well more of a wooded area. _Maybe we will get through this, _I thought, and then knocked on the nearest tree just for luck. Gaffer always said to do that, or whatever you believed was going happen would turn out horribly wrong. "You're jinxing it, Samwise Gamgee!" He'd say. And I guess I couldn't risk it now, or maybe it was just of old habit.

Calathiel turned back to face us, a bead of sweat on the side of her forehead. "I would feel much better if we were several more leagues away from Minas Tirith, or in a forest with better coverage," she said with a slight look of fatigue. "But it is too dangerous to be out in the open." She swung her pack off her shoulders, and laid it down upon the ground. "We shall rest here tonight."

I let out a thankful sigh in relief, and took no hesitation in dropping my pack as well. The darned thing weighed so much, since it held all of my cooking gear and such. But I couldn't get rid of any of it, for I knew that I'd need it as soon as I got rid of it, as I said in Rivendel.

As soon as I sat down, I realized how tired I was. I sprinted for my life through half of the enormous city of Minas Tirith, so I guessed that having you feet feel close to numb was explainable. Not only did I feel as if I could never stand up again— let alone walk, my sides throbbed, cramped. I knew I wouldn't have to wait for sleep to come to me, for I began to feel my eyelids growing heavy.

Mr. Frodo didn't even take his pack off before sliding down to sit slumped under a fir tree. For a moment he just stared at us, though then closed his eyes. Turning his face he let his head rest on his shoulder, exhaling loudly. "So this… this is it," He murmured, wiping his hair of his forehead, looking up at the top of the trees. "The sand has been shifted, and landed in the spot it must stay in… We are the ones who must destroy it." Calathiel nodded in agreement, and tiredly bent down to look through her pack.

A long time of silence passed before I chucked quietly to myself upon hearing these words, "True, true." I nodded, "Very poetic, too, Mr. Frodo. Sounds like something ol' Bilbo would've said. Well come to think of it, Gandalf probably would've too." Frodo looked at me, though not with a grin, or even that thin smile. _Gandalf_. The small hint of a grin then vanished from my face, realizing how much I missed the wizard "I suppose we'll never know where he went…" Though then I stopped myself, seeing a slight saddened look come over his face.

Calathiel paused at the mentioning of this, her face hidden from us as she was facing the other way. Her elbow, midway through grabbing a leaf wrapped packet of lembas, hung in the air for a moment. Though then she cleared her throat and then turned around. "I'm sure you're hungry." She said, tossing us each a third. As we both caught it, she walked around her pack and then reached down, pulling up the hem of the trousers she somehow got. I quietly munched a corner off my piece, my stomach ever so appreciative. Then, as she turned her arm towards us, rolling up the piece of clothing, both Frodo and I saw it.

"T—there's an arrow— an orc arrow in your arm!" I cried alarmed, seeing the snapped in half shaft of the weapon, sticking out around reddened skin. Frodo sat up, looking quite awake now. Calathiel didn't seem that scared though, or surprised in the least. She lifted up her arm, her face tightening from the sight.

"It seems to only have gotten worse," She whispered to herself as she sat down upon the grass. "Curse my stupidity for not removing it sooner!" She said grasping the splintered end of the arrow, and looking at the wound carefully.

Frodo moved forward, "You mean you didn't just get it as we were escaping Minas Tirith?" She nodded and then looked back down to her work. "How long, might I ask?"

Without a single look of hesitation, the elf closed her eyes in preparation, and drew her hand holding the end of the weapon up with a large amount of force. A slight sliding noise entered the air. She let out a painful cry, looking down at the puss and blood which was now coming from the place where the arrow had been. But indeed she had removed it.

I pulled a long strip of cloth from my pack and quickly handed it to her, which she took gratefully. Quickly she began to bind the injury, wrapping the material around her arm in circles. "I can't say how long it was there, for I do not know myself." She looked up quickly, her cheeks slightly pink. "I will recount what happened to me in the morning, but for now I must get some rest, as I'm sure you do too." Both of us were only too happy to oblige.

The rest of the evening was short, for after finishing eating we all went straight to our bedrolls. The sun fell beneath the horizon as darkness covered the land. But the screams and cries and shouts never seemed to cease that night. Just because we were out of harm's way (or not) didn't mean we felt safe at all. My dreams seemed to be haunted by flying Nazgûl, and falling towers. The world around me began to feel much bigger, for now we were without the protection of the fellowship; without the knowledge of the others. We were on our own, and each one of us knew the real trouble had just begun.

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**Ah, yes drama! Can't go without it! ; )**

**Coming Up In Soon to Come Chapters... (think about these while I'm away)  
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-**What happened to Faramir, and why he wasn't there when Calathiel met the fellowship before departing with Sam and Frodo**

-**The rest of the fellowship on the other side of the fallen tower**

-**Battling**

**-And what we've all been waiting for... (or at least just me) Gollum!**

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**On to the reviews then! Yay!  
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**Thank you to the lovely silentmidnightdeath (awesome pen name!) who so kindly added this story to their Favorites list! Thank you!**

**Stina686: Thank you so much! I'm really happy you think so. You I really tried to help create this exciting AU that would be different from a lot of the Fan Fics about LOTR that add OC's and so on. At the moment I'm re-re-rereading the whole series, so I'm getting more ideas on how to change up some of the things that happen in the real works of Tolkien. But I also plan on making some of the same things, or similar things happen, like as you see, Sam and Frodo (and Calathiel) end up going to destroy the ring on their own. I personally like not knowing what to expect, so that's what I tried to do. Hope to here from you, and thanks for reviewing!**

**Song in the woods: Yep, we got Pizza Hut and "Gas Station" pizza here too. Oh wonderful fast food! Haha, we also have this company that's quite popular and makes this really good pizza- but in square form! Amazing right? I still prefer the fancy Italian pizza I get at the sit-down restaurants. I'm sorry, I just find it funny that we managed to have a long-ish (not really, but on FanFic standards...) conversation about pizza. I know, I'm weird. Thanks for reviewing, and I look forward to seeing how you like this chapter! **

**Luna Elen: I finally followed you advice and gave a quote. I know it's serious, but you know... its a start at least! Thanks!  
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	24. Chapter 24 A Moment of Quiet

**Author's Note: **_**I'm baaaaaaack! **_**Ha ha,****it feels good to have AC again, and water pressure + hot water, and decent food. Being a SIT (staff in training) was alright, but I don't really want to stay there for 7 weeks again. I'm sure you don't really care, so lets get strait to the good stuff, eh?**

**This chapter is dedicated to cabin G7, my wonderful friends Roxi, Fish, Jenna, Emily, Callie and Lily S who helped me survive, and my counselors who trained me, Adi, Helen, and Mollie.  
**

**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN LOTR! Now stop bothering me...**

**Warnings: Absolutely none. Well, if you hate dialog...  
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_**Enjoy!  
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_**Calathiel**_

I opened an eye upon hearing the faint rustle of material and the clicking of strap buckles being handled by clumsy fingers. My senses awakened with a jolt, ones of which I wished were sharper. If they were, I would've been able to prevent this. _Someone is trying to steal our supplies…_ I was only fighting panic because I could tell that whoever was trying to get into our bags was not one of the hobbits, for they were lying sound asleep across from me. But I did have my guesses. It was not as if I was clueless to what was happening, for I had expected this to happen for a while now.

My heart pounded a bit louder, preparing myself to attack. I mentally counted down until the opportune moment, trying to remember where I had placed my sword before settling down for the night. Then before I could convince myself not to, I threw my shredded blanket off to the side, and began blindly searching for the beautiful blade from Lady Galadriel, still on my knees.

From a couple yards behind me, a loud hissing began, nearing at an alarming pace. Just then my hand grasped the middle of the patterned sheath. I scrambled to get out my dangerous position, grabbing a long branch to steady myself. Two glowing lanterns, dull and eerie, met me as I pulled the sword free.

"Flee!" I said fiercely, while trying not to wake the hobbits. The creature drew back with another set of angry, snake-like hisses. "Leave now! Or shall I be forced to use this on you?"

"Nasty elfses! Elfses, they come, sting us with biting metal! _Gollum, gollum!"_ It withered backwards, its voice gravelly and wretched. He crawled backwards using both its hands and its feet, making his way slyly towards Frodo. I advanced carefully holding the sword out. _He wants the ring…_

The _thing _turned its head towards me, glaring at me through two of his large, lantern eyes. It looked at me with such hatred; I seemed to slow down my pace. I was slightly glad the creature was concealed in the darkness of the night, for by the looks of his outline, he looked very…well it was hard to describe. But something was familiar about it, but more of a way like I had heard of it in a story or tale of some sort.

It began to bend over Frodo's curled up form, getting frighteningly close. I thrust my sword forward in a parry, not as if to hit the creature, but just enough to scare it off. My plan worked. It sprung backwards, clearly trying to stay away from my weapon. At this same time, Frodo jumped slightly, and sat up. His eyes were wide with surprised fear.

After a few whimpers and wrathful hissing, a different, more evil voice spoke low and quiet, "Precious… precious… nasty she-elfses, hobbitses… soon—soon, Sméagol! We shall haves it, yes Precious…" It trailed into a mumble of gurgling noises before turning away. And as sudden as he had appeared, his two eerie lanterns disappeared into the shrouded shadows, and then the rest of him as well.

I exhaled loudly in relief. My arm holding Galadriel's sword went limp, and came directly to my side. Without hesitation, I quickly made my way back towards my blankets and sat down. Though my gaze never wandered far from where that thing went, should it change its mind and try once again.

Before I had parted ways with the fellowship, I was aware of something following us since my recovery in Lothlorien. It daunted me to know that it managed to find us once again after escaping Minas Tirith. And it only assured my guess that the creature would try once again and probably soon. But it seemed as if my sword had scared him off for the night.

"Gollum…" Frodo whispered hoarsely, staring down at the ground covered in the darkness of the night. He held a fist up, close to his body. From his clasped hand, I could see the faint shimmer of a chain that separated and went around his neck. He glanced up at me, his expression somewhat distant, worried and forlorn. "I didn't think he'd… he'd well, get so near."

"Hmmm," I said quietly, examining my bare feet through the shadow. After brushing a dead leaf off I continued, "So I wasn't the only one who noticed someone following us."

He nodded for a short moment, "Aragorn, Gandalf, and Legolas knew as well, I think. The watches became more of a serious thing after you had left. I knew it wasn't just because of the events that had come to pass, and they all seemed to be whispering to each other. Gandalf and I had also spoken about him earlier. But other than that, the matter was remained untouched." The hobbit closed his eyes and brought his head down, fighting off sleep.

At this mentioning of Gandalf, I felt my shoulders stiffening. The shock and devastation of Wormtongue's horrid news fell onto me once again, now giving me more grief than before. Then it struck me that the hobbits, the whole fellowship in fact, knew nothing of this. _He has a right to know, more than you, since he appeared to be a long time friend with him and his uncle, _I thought. But what if Grima was really lying after all? Frodo already had enough troubles; certainly telling him of tidings such as these wouldn't help at all.

I remained quiet after his comment, settling down on my back and gazing up at the skies. A long period of time passed where we just sat in silence, though there seemed to be no urge to fill the quietness with words. And the small patch of wood was not all together silent either; the night birds' calls echoed between the trees. And their leaves rustled loudly in the wind, like an old book's pages being turned quickly. The sounds seemed to all blend together, now that I had became so accustomed to sleeping outdoors. They were comforting, though occasional shrill shrieks still rang out in the distance, a reminder to the danger we were constantly in. The danger that was constantly growing with every step we took.

With a glance down, I eyes the patch of forest where Gollum, the name I had heard it speak and of which Frodo called it, had came from or at least I first spotted him there. Hesitantly, I slid the sword back into the sheath. _It needs a proper name, _I thought distractedly. I caught myself before putting the weapon back inside my pack, and brought it to rest on my lap. "What do you think I should name this?" I asked randomly, holding up the sheathed blade. Frodo gave a slight smile at this question and then seemed to give it more thought.

"I'm pretty bad with coming up with names, especially when I know they will be used. Every time I will hear it repeated I'm sure I'll have second thoughts of what else it could've been called." He shook his head, "Ask Sam in the morning, he's sure to have a better answer. He's good at those sorts of things."

"I'm sure he is." I grinned briefly, and then decided to ask the question that had been remaining unsettled in my mind, ever since the _thing _had left out sight. "I don't mean to pry Frodo, but how did you know what that creature was called? I have never seen something like that before, and while it frightens me, I'd still like to know what it is."

"I, myself don't know exactly what it is either. I do know though that my Uncle, Bilbo, met him on one of his journeys, somewhere in the Misty Mountains. That's how he got the ring, he won it from Gollum, had been keeping for a long time if I understood correctly. Anyway I had heard the story told many a time." He smiled a bit, half heartedly. "I always enjoyed listening to his tales, and still do now. When I was young it fascinated me; adventures and the like…"

This perked my interest. "And what was a hobbit doing in the Misty Mountains? I remember Pippin telling me that Shire-folk never left their homes."

Frodo sighed, "It's a long, complicated story involving dwarfs, stolen treasure, trolls, gigantic spiders, and a dragon." I could see him smile quietly to himself. I was still somewhat impressed with the dragon part. "Gandalf was also involved. Actually he was the one to get Bilbo out of the Shire in the first place."

I tried to ignore the mentioning of Gandalf and pushed on. "I'd love to meet Bilbo when we return. He sounds like he'd be very interesting to talk to. I'd be interested in hearing his tale. The way you illustrated it made it seem quite exciting." I admitted. _We probably won't ever be returning._

The hobbit nodded, his previous grin disappearing with every second that passed away. During our last couple of words, his ring had seemed to have slipped back inside his tunic. But now I saw him looking as if he was fighting to not bring the chain back up, and hold the object in his fingers. I could hardly imagine what the burden was to him, but after the day's events, I was starting to grow concerned for him.

A loud chorus of war cries came from the distance. The terrible part was that I was unable to determine whose side it came from. True, orcs and goblins sounded quite different; growling, roaring, snarling like wild beasts. But even with elven ears, I still could not hear those distinguishing qualities over such a long distance. We both grimaced in worry.

"Do you ever feel… _petrified_?" Frodo asked suddenly, that pained quality back in his voice. I looked into his blue eyes as he continued. "Petrified when—when you know what's ahead, what you know you must do… when you know what's at stake?"

I brushed a strand of my long hair out of my face and behind my pointed ear. _What is it thing doing to him?_ I thought, biting my lower lip. "Yes…" My answer escaped my mouth suddenly, the tone dark. I was surprised how honestly I had just answered. "After Lorien, it always remained in my mind."

"I always knew it would come to this," he said slowly, "But it only made me fear the moment more…" Another long moment of silence passed before he spoke again. "It just seems like there is no hope; for us or for all that is good. And even before the fellowship set out, there was very little to none at all. From nine we went to eleven. But now here we are, only three—two of us hobbits for the matter! But I won't doubt her word."

"Galadriel," I confirmed.

"Yes," He said quieter now. "She spoke to me before we departed from Lorien… Among various other things, she spoke of some sort a future, well more of a possibility of an existence. In this other possibility, we never found you, never came across the stone, or fell into the hands of Saruman. She said that the in that existence the fellowship was divided at the Falls of Rarous. Well really, she said "was supposed to". Sam and I apparently left for Mordor alone."

I absorbed his words for a moment before speaking. "Did she say that this _future _of some sort, end up with the ring being destroyed and everyone living 'happily ever after', to put it in simpler words?" He shook his head no. "That doesn't surprise me…"

"She must've told Aragorn, then."

"Maybe…" I considered it quickly, "Then she must want us to follow what was supposed to happen in this other existence. Which probably means it ends with Middle Earth being saved. Though, who knows, really? The Lady of Light speaks in riddles and reveals little."

He nodded in agreement. Then looking as if a sudden thought hit him, he turned and began to shift through his pack. Finally after pulling out several small items he retrieved a small glass vial. It was decorated beautifully, wrapped in fine silver decorations at the top and around the glass cork. The liquid inside did not fill the entire thing, though glowed with a soft, comforting light. "She gave this to me as my gift," He said, holding it out with one hand for me to examine.

"It's the Light of Eärendil's star," I murmured, taking the small treasure carefully from him, and holding it in my palm. "I hope this will be able to wield off the upcoming darkness." I said handing it back to him.

He got up to reach for it, "As do I."

I pulled my cloak tighter around my shoulders as a cold wind began to sweep through. I looked down at the brooch, and couldn't help but feel quite grateful to Faramir, for he had found all of my belongings. It was somehow comforting to have it back. Not only was it a reminder of home, but that one piece of cloth was the one thing left of the fellowship with us. Though we were now separated, each of us owned one, still binding us together as a fellowship. (Pardoning Eowyn and Eomer)

With a now drowsy voice, the hobbit spoke again, "How did you end up in Minas Tirith, Calathiel?"

"To be truthful," I stifled a yawn, shifting to lie on my side, "I don't exactly know how I got there. I only really remember seeing a large amount of Gondorian soldiers and orcs, all bearing the white hand, march towards Minas Tirith. I was watching high up in a tree, when I guess Wormtongue spotted me. Someone fired an arrow, digging its self my forearm. I let go of the tree in surprise and because my arm could no longer hold on. I was lucky to have survived the fall, but it hurt unbearably, and I found myself unconscious. I awoke in a cell underground the city. Boromir's brother, Faramir, found me, and informed me that I was to be executed at your arrival." Frodo's brow darkened slightly, in a worried manor. "He tried to get me out, but Saruman's puppet intervened. For quite a long time I was locked in a broom closet… After quite a close call, I escaped and found Faramir again. Though, the stone… it came over me again."

The sound of ruffling material signaled a nod from him. The silence that followed almost made me believe he had nodded off to sleep, but I was soon proved wrong. "Did they…" He paused a moment, "Did they hurt you at all?" I was slightly touched by his question, finding myself breathing out in a small _o_. "Not really, but nothing of grave importance or that demands recounting. But I did figure out some information about how Saruman fell into control of Minas—"

"Saruman?" He sat up, leaning on his elbow.

"I forgot to mention him, it seems." My tone darkened a bit, "He's the one behind the fellowship's order of capture. Apparently he poisoned The Steward of Gondor's mind, like what Eowyn said happened to her uncle. That's how he gained control, and then kept the people in control with fear, or so it seems. He ordered the Nazgûl attack, in hopes of wiping out all of the citizens, while he hid in safety."

He settled down once again, now satisfied with the gained knowledge. "It only makes too much sense." I saw the silhouette of his arms rise above his head as he let out a soft yawn.

"We should get some rest," I noted, pulling the blankets over my shoulders. "We must make haste in the morn. There's no telling what we'll find when we awake. And if it'd be bad, we'll need the energy to run, and run quickly."

"Will _you _be alright though?" This question was somewhat sudden, catching me off guard. "Your arm seemed as if it were becoming infected. And I'm not sure that your feet will be able to hold up much longer against bare rock."

"I'm worried as well. It surprised me that they didn't start bleeding as we were running. The cobble stone and the small rocks scattered around the outside of the city hurt." I let out a small chuckle as I realized something, "I guess I'll have to be like a hobbit! I look enough like one already…"

I expected him to at least let out a small quiet laugh, though nothing came. The air around him was still heavy. And he remained unmoving, just staring in the direction of which we had come from. "Do you…"

"Think they're alright?" I finished for him. In my mind, I stumbled over words to answer. Honestly, I feared the worst for them, and I'm sure he was too. But that would not be comforting in the least. However the last thing I wanted to do was lie, since I knew the success of the next part of our journey would partially be determined by trust. Or at least would require a lot of it.

"We can only hope, pray, and continue on without looking back. For we won't find any comfort in what lies behind; it will only keep us from moving forwards."

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**Not to sound self centered, but I thought Calathiel's last line was pretty good. Oh what ever ignore me. I got the inspiration to write this at the camp out, where we all slept in tents a mile away from camp surrounded by bugs (fun right?). I realized how hard traveling and sleeping on rocks are every night, and felt a lot of empathy for Sam. If you remember from chapter 2 he had a hard time sleeping cause he was on a root or something. Same thing happened to me. But no elves, magic... and it was on the night HP came out. So when 12:00 hit, I celebrated quietly in the dark... alone... I'M SO LONELY!**

**Now just to clear things up, Calathiel and Frodo do NOT like each other. They become fast friends because they share equal pains, and they find that it is easier to talk to people who are going through the same thing. I purposely made Calathiel the way she is, to mirror our little troubled hobbit, as both of them suffer for their sacrifices. Though the damage done to Calathiel is shown physically as the poison in the stone. Frodo is the opposite to this, only showing his pain through his actions and emotions. Both connect through empathy and understanding for each other. **

**Thank you to juliest et tisbe for adding this story to her favorites list****  
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**Song in the Woods: Thanks! No, luckily no orcs... well if you don't count this really mean girl who had these huge finger nails. Funniest thing was, she was really short, so taking her out with LOTR skills would've been easy. Lol, that sounded so mean, but trust me, she made my friend cry, which is hard to do.**

**Luna Elen: *hands official looking certificate* Thank you, and congratulations on being the 60th reviewer! Hey, it is special, cause now I'm past my goal of 50. I mean it was a low goal, but this is my first story ever. I hope that you saw how my writing grew in the chapter cause looking back, I personally thought it got a lot better. But I could be wrong. Thank goodness I didn't get the Elementary school kids, cause they...you know. I got 7th graders, who were actually pretty nice. But I did make a couple of sweet midget friends.**

**Till next week! Still to come: What happened in Minas Tirith that night? Where the heck is Faramir? And what has become of the fellowship? All these questions and more, will be answered in the next edition!**


	25. Chapter 25 The End of All Things

**Hullo faithful readers! This is the final chapter of Daughter of the Fellowship! Alas, 25 chapters is far too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable readers. [cheers abound.] I don't know half of you half as well as I should like, and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. I regret to announce that this is the end. Well pardoning the epilogue, which should come in 1-2 weeks time. I am going now... goodbye. *disapears***

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, movie nor book. I don't own Bilbo's speech either.**

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"When you have completed 95 percent of the, journey you are still only halfway there."

_**Calathiel**_

_Fire, flame, ash._

_Heat, burning heat, pain._

_Hunger, thirst, hunger. _

_No hope, nothing left._

_Death… _

_Ever approaching death. _

How long had it been since we had been walking on grass, even wet soil and mud? When had I ever walked so long without end; without the soles of my feet torn up and bleeding? When had I last tasted food, or water? Felt rain against my face, a river beneath my toes, and a leaf between my fingers. Why were we walking towards the one thing any sane person would never move towards? Maybe we weren't sane anymore, just living every second in these torturous thoughts, endless and unnerving.

Every moment was another possibility of _him _finding us, The Eye. Even though it seemed distracted at the time, he could lose interest just as easily and turn to stare right at us. But that was only one of a many worried thought. One of the most important, though, was Frodo. Sam was now carrying him, bless his soul, putting aside his own exhaustion for his friend. I could not help but admire the hobbits integrity and level of kindness. And thank Eärendil that he was as he was, for Frodo would've probably given up by now. And even with Sam, he seemed to be fading quickly, the Ring taking hold of him.

Frodo seemed to hold the chain around his neck almost all the time, the ring enclosed inside his cut fist. Through the large hole of his dirt caked tunic, I could see the black mark where he was stabbed by Shelob's stinger. The skin looked to have become irritated, maybe even infected, like my arm. But it wasn't just his physical wounds. No, it was much more the internal strain the evil was. I felt a large amount of grief knowing that he would never be the same carefree hobbit he was again.

Then to add to that was Gollum, or Sméagol, the name Frodo tried to believe in. It was sadly a false hope. And even though the menace was now gone, I didn't trust him to have completely left. I never trusted the gangly creature, not even from the start. But we were lost, and I believed that being an elf, I could intimidate him to keep him under control. Though after leaving Sam (I stayed with the tearful hobbit, unsure of what else to do but comfort him) and I, with Frodo, I knew Gollum was going to try to do something and reclaim the Ring. I only hopped I could get Sam to continue on before it was too late. I was wrong, once again.

We were able to fend off Shelob with Sam's brilliant idea of using the light of Eärendil. After a triumphant wave, both of us were shocked to find Frodo 'dead'. So Sam took the ring from him, out of respect of the quest of course. Hearing approaching footsteps we hid behind the rock, only to find some uruk-hai and orcs proclaiming him to poisoned and drag him away.

Sam leading, we were able to rescue Frodo, disguise ourselves in orc armor, and sneak past the vast army of Mordor undetected. We got rid of most of our things for what seemed like awhile ago. For we were already out of food, and the extra weight wouldn't help us climb Mount Doom. Though I did keep my sword and my cloak, from Lothlorien. Both hung on the leather belt I wore for the whole journey. And of course I kept the shard of Andúril, Aragorn's blade. I knew Frodo kept Sting, for I was now holding it for him, and the vial of light in his pocket. Sam held two different carved wooden boxes. I knew one to be from Lorien but he wouldn't tell either of us what the other one contained. I would've guessed an engagement ring from his stories of his Rosie, but I wasn't one to pry.

I swallowed hard, the sheer dryness of my throat and parched mouth painful. The world began to tilt sharply to the left, becoming fuzzy around the edged. I could hear the thumping of my pulse like a drum in my ear. Heat began to sweep through my blood, then sharp pain. It was excruciating, something I couldn't even describe in Sindarin. I stopped my feet from going any further, though I could tell I continued swaying. The already black land went completely dark, my eyes going unfocused from the pulses of searing poison.

"Miss Calathiel!" I gasped for breath, broken from the spell. I opened my eyes quickly, only to see the uneven pointed rock coming to meet my side. I tried to put out my hands to stop myself, the only thing I could do. In fear of seeing the damage of the impact, I snapped my eyes shut once again. It hit my arm first, like a wall with pointed teeth. The impact sent my jaw snapping down, my teeth digging into the corner of my mouth. I lay there for a second, unable to make any noise of pain, my mouth now filled with my own blood, my wound upon my arm opened once again.

Soon I felt a pair of small, warm hands gently nudge my shoulder. I knew it was Sam, without even looking. "Miss Calathiel?" I wanted to make protest again, like the many times he called me so. To say that calling me such a thing was unfair to him; that we were friends, and to put me up in a higher position was unnecessary, but I refrained. "Are you alright?"

I opened my eyes slightly, squinting from the hurt, "My arm…" I motioned to the limb I was laying on, red saliva dripping down the side of my chin. I couldn't feel it now, which made me worry.

"Let's get you up again." Sam replied a bit spent, but still caring as usual. "Can- can you sit up on your own?" I tried, using the one arm that was not crushed under by body and the rocks underneath. I managed to get half way up and then paused. Sam gently guided my elbow to get me to sit straight again. I apprehensively glanced to my left, wincing at the sight. "Miss Calathiel, we should bind it to help stop the bleedin'—"

I shook my head, pushing myself to my feet, mostly with my legs, for my free arm held the limp one close to my chest. "We don't have the time, Mount Doom is right before us. I can walk, don't worry." I assured the larger hobbit. He didn't argue, but instead took Sting off the side of my belt. "The least you need now is an extra load to carry," Sam said, attaching it to his own. I smiled in a thankful relief turning back towards the rocky cliffs.

Frodo, who was resting several paces infront, got to his feet as well. I grimaced, watching him finger the small band of gold, seeing his eyes so soulless and cold. I approached him, trying to walk as steady as I could. "Frodo?" I asked softly, to which he turned his head up, dropping the ring as if it were burning. _Did I appear to be trying to take the ring? _"Can you walk the rest of the distance?" I ignored the whispering voices in my head, and the beautiful glint of light the ring let off.

He quickly stuffed the chain down the neckline of his shirt. He looked at me for a quite frightening moment as if I was Sauron myself, but then his expression softened a bit. "Yes… yes," He replied breathlessly, looking down at the gravel. "I believe I, I can make it up…" I nodded, internally quite thankful for this, since Sam and I were now mostly incapable of carrying him anymore. Frodo looked up at me once again, staring at my neck, "The poison… it's, it's…" I took my hand, feeling the side of my neck. The small inclined skin of where the poison flowed through my veins was now climbing up my neck, the highest vine coming around my ear.

Sam came up next to us, looking from Frodo, to me, and then to my neck. "We don't have much time, do we?" He asked his face pitiful and worried. I tried to swallow the blood-saliva once again, finding the dryness of the dust too painful. "Let's go on then."

* * *

I took the lead, swaying with each uneven step I took up the crudely made steps, Frodo quite a couple feet behind, with Sam urging him on in the back. By this point I was very unsure of whether what I was hearing was hallucinations, me being paranoid, or real. The ash filled wind was mostly all one could make out, though something else was also about in the air. The soft fall of pebbles, hissing; oh! I just couldn't be sure what was real or not anymore.

My head fell to rest on my front, looking down at my filthy feet, and the small imprints they left on the dark land. The skirts of the chemise I had stuffed into the pair of trousers I wore, had now become un-tucked on one side, torn at the end from my fall and all the walking. One leg of the trousers was still rolled up to my shin, but the other was now past my ankle, also torn badly with a hole at the knee. All of my skin was covered in a thick layer of filth, with the black dust of the land smudged on random spots. I could feel many of my shorter pieces of hair on my forehead, loose of the braid I tied them in long ago. Disheveled was hardly a word for my appearance.

A small rock, about the size of a child's toy ball fell to the edge of the step ahead of me. _No. This time it's not a coincidence. _I halted, looking from all sides. I didn't mind if I was being paranoid, if paranoid was what would keep us alive. There were several hiding places an enemy could be lurking, the most probable: A wall made of stone, arching above the next landing. A perfect place for an ambush.

"Keep up, please!" I called down to them, my eye still on the wall. The slight sound of a hiss guaranteed my suspicions. I drew my sword, Lhach En Galad, (Named by Sam and translated in to elvish. The name was given because when I had put my sword to Gollum's throat, he cried out, "It burns!") A landing away from where I suspected the creature to be. I heard Sam call back something so I turned my back, and decided that they were on their way.

I supposed that the distorted and revenge-thirsty hobbit knew I was close. The real question was, would he come out and pounce on me? _No, _I thought, _He wants the ring. He'll go for Frodo, since he knows that he's weakened now. _I would try to fight him off, I was sure of that. But what use would it be? My fighting arm was shattered, and I was very lousy with the other. It was hard enough to hold the piece of metal on its own.

_Something's not right… _My instincts picked up. _They would've caught up to me by now. _I looked back to where I suspected Gollum to be before turning to look down the endless flights of carved stairs. Frodo met my stare, almost heading strait me. The hobbit did not stop as he approached me, only sprint strait past me. In a small state of shock, all I could do was exclaim, "Gollum's—" Though as he passed by the stone wall, nothing happened. Not a grain of stone moved.

"Help!" It was Sam. I cursed my stupidity. Gollum _had _gone for Frodo, probably sneaking around the wall to get to them. Without questioning, I ran down the next flight of stairs.

When I arrived, Sam had Gollum tackled, though just barely. Sting was lying on the ground besides them, both fighting for control of the weapon. Gollum kept letting out growls and the same words, "Stupid fat hobbit!" while Sam grunted trying to punch the thing. I wordlessly ran towards them. As much as I wanted to kill the _thing_ I knew I couldn't. Unlike Frodo I did not pity it, only hated the thought of deciding whether or not something should live. Though if it was his life or Sam's… Unsure of what else to do, I took the hilt of the sword and knocked it hard against the hissing creature, making it go limp automatically. No, the blow wouldn't kill him at all; just knock him out for awhile.

The hobbit sighed in gratitude, getting up and grabbing Sting. "Thank you." He bowed his head slightly, quite out of breath once again. "You saw Frodo, right?" I nodded quickly jogging to the next flight of stairs. He followed faster, almost flying up ahead of me. "I hope he makes it through all right, I'm worried leaving him all alone!"

"Me too," I replied quietly, worried for a different reason. I had heard the tale of Isildur many times, and from the beginning feared the same fate for Frodo. But Elrond seemed to think he had a resistance to the ring, or so Gandalf had told me so long ago. I prayed he was right.

* * *

_**Sam**_

As soon as I passed under the archway of The Crack of Doom, or _Sammath Naur _as Calathiel had told me, the heat hit me so strongly, I found myself slowing down. The place was almost like a stove, all closed in and burning hot, like we were inside of it. Black clouds of smoke obscured my vision, flashing orange and red when the bubbles of lava below burst. And when they did so, a frighteningly strong gust of gasses blew out from bellow the rock walkway, shaking the whole place with noise like thunder.

"Frodo!" I screamed, unable to see anything past a couple feet in front of me. "Mr. Frodo!" Blindly I made my way forwards, only to realize I wasn't being followed. I looked back to the entrance, Calathiel leaning against the carved arch, her face pale as a sheet. _The stone! _I took a step back, seeing her slowly sink down to her knees.

"I'm here, Sam." Frodo called somewhere in the mess. Miraculously the smoke and ash seemed to clear away just a bit. Only enough so that I could see him, standing at the end of the walkway. In his hand, dangling from that silver chain was the ring. His back was turned towards me so I couldn't see his face, but his arm was held out strait, as if to drop it. I ran back to Calathiel as fast as I could.

"The… the shard…" she whimpered, reaching into her pocket. Though her arm seemed unable to perform the task, shaking so hard. I gently slipped the piece of metal from her weak grasp. She apparently cut herself on it in her stupor, for blood was on her hands and now on mine. "Y-you, you must stab… the stone… right when, exactly when the ring hits the lava…" She forced the words out in great pain.

_No, I can't be trusted to save a life! _I panicked internally. But wasn't that my mission for Mr. Frodo when he was held in Cirith Ungol? I helped the light elf lean against the old stone archway, "And what if I can only get it a second too late?"

"Then, then it is that," her eye lids drooped down almost halfway, her hands beginning to clutch the frayed collar of her tunic. "T-too late…"

I looked back to Frodo, still in the same position I left him in, though from this angle I saw his face. The ash smudged on his face concealed most of his expression, though he seemed almost hollow; blank. But his eyes read much more. He stared at the small band of gold in some twisted combination of pure hatred, raw fear, and strong hunger. _Well you're not going to be seeing the ring fall into the abyss and time it correctly from here. _I determined quickly, Calathiel's whimpering turning into harsh breathing. I put a hand on her shoulder, trying to help her in a small way, though I doubted if she could still feel anything but the poison. "Miss Calathiel, stay with us please. I'm just going to move you, so I can see the ring when Frodo lets it go." I noticed she tried to nod, so I reached for her arms. No I couldn't carry her. She was a great deal taller than Frodo now, but she did seem lighter. I wouldn't risk falling though.

Suddenly her eyes opened again, glazing over to some place distant. Still trembling she grabbed the arch way and began to get herself off the ground. Then she paused, "Help me." Her voice was a whisper, barely audible over the chaos of nature. I straightened up, placing my head under her arm. She thankfully took my shoulder as a brace. Each step she took, required her to lean heavily on me. But soon we got far enough on the walkway.

"Tiro!" She screamed in great alarm making me jump slightly.

Then from behind me I heard a distorted laugh, "Nasty elvses! Stupid fat one!" Before I could understand what was going on, a great weight jumped onto my back, grabbing me and shoving Calathiel to the ground. The side of my face collided with the gravely ground, stinging a great deal. I was expecting more of an attack from him, though all he did was continue on. "Frodo!" I yelled trying to stop this nightmare before it got any worse, though I could see nothing but Calathiel besides me, and the ground. "Drop the ring in the fire!"

I pushed myself up to see Frodo hold the ring up in triumph, "No, no Sam…" He smiled wickedly, seemingly unaware of the approaching Gollum. "The ring is mine!"

I stared at him in disbelief, finding myself just crying out "No, no, no!" repeatedly. Calathiel's gasping was getting louder, withering besides me. "You don't mean that!" I yelled to him, "You'll kill 'er! You'll kill the Shire!" All he did was wear that wicked grin, shaking his head. And with that he slipped it on, disapearing. As the horrid cry of Nazgûl rang out from a great distance, Gollum now jumped for the invisible Frodo. The driven mad _thing's_ hands seemed to grab his shoulders, the rest of him now latched onto him.

I looked back to Calathiel, wishing to have her comforting words now. Then suddenly I noticed how close she was to the edge. In fact I had failed to realize her shattered arm dangling over the edge. I grabbed the shard of Andúril off the dirt, and pulled her away from the edge. I switched positions with her, so I could get a better view if the ring should fall. Though I would've rather gone to help Frodo.

Frodo let out a tortured cry, as I returned my attention to the battle, Gollum chomping down on something. In a quick flash, both ring bearers teetered to the ground, Frodo reappearing. He lay on his side, holding his hand close to himself, panting heavily. Looking closer I realized one of his fingers—his _ring _finger—was now reduced to a bloodied stump. "Frodo!" I yelled, hopelessly.

Gollum stood, his face plain with elation, holding the ring up in glory. He looked as if he could hardly believe it, that he now held the one thing he had been craving for his hole sad life, or ever since ol'Bilbo stole it from him. "Precious… Precious!" He cried joyously. "Precious! My Precious! My own! _My_ Precious!" With each word he sprung into the air, victory now his. Or so he thought.

Frodo sprung back to his feet in a last moment of strength, Calathiel's screams now reducing slightly. He launched himself forward, strait for the creature. It seemed like one of those moments where things went so quickly if you blinked once you'd miss something. Well, unfortunately I did, for next thing I knew, both of them were toppling off the end of the cavern's floor.

"No!" I cried, finding tears swelling in my eyes. But Calathiel's gut wrenching scream tore me back to the task at hand. I looked over the edge, seeing Gollum's form flying down the pit of red lava, the ring still glowing gold. With tears now streaming from my eyes, I held the shard poised about the black stone which now sent black vines around the face of the she-elf. The twisted creature hit the burning substance first, melting away until only his hand holding the ring was left, then his fingers. And then just the ring. It sat there upon the liquid fire, a tiny gold spec upon a sea of red. And then, in a miraculous moment, it was consumed.

My hand plunged downwards just as the gold disappeared. As this happened, a flood of white light erupted from the crack I had created, flooding upwards in sharp rays. I pulled the shard out, sending more light from the small piece of obsidian. Loud whispers of words I could not understand flooded the cavern, similar to the words of Mordor Gandalf had said at the counsel of Elrond. And in a loud _whosh! _of wind, and a blinding expansion of light it ended. Calathiel was left completely still, the black vines of poison gone from her skin, though the cracked stone remained there.

I barely had time to notice, scrambling up to my feet. The volcano around shuttered loudly as I stepped onto the end of the cavern's floor, looking out over the edge. _Mr. Frodo…_ the tears ran harder now. Until I looked down to the edge of the actual cliff.

I was unable to believe my eyes, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. "Frodo?" I extended my hand down over as far as I was able. My friend stared up at me, an apologetic look in his eyes. His hand covered in red dropped from the edge he clung to. "Don't you let go!" I commanded, reaching further. Mount Doom rumbled louder this time. "Take my 'and! Come on!"

* * *

_**Calathiel **_

I remember little to nothing. One moment I was following Sam, then great pain. Things were mostly black, or full of ash and flame. Sometimes I would pass in and out of conscious, until I found myself on top of a boulder, surrounded by a sea of orange, red, yellow, and black. Familiar voices were talking remorsefully about what their life could've been. Or recalling a place they both cherished, one remembering it for the first time in awhile, the other continually pining for his childhood sweetheart. It took me a moment to place who they were, why they were so sad, why they cared about me.

"So it's the end now…" I murmured, pushing myself up on my elbow, only to find it limp and torn at places. Frodo and Sam smiled half heartedly, but I could tell that they were genuinely glad to see me alright. Frodo nodded quietly.

We all sat in silence for awhile, crippled, in pain, or mentally injured. Three very different peoples, all similar in that friendship could be found, and sacrifices could be made. And now we were to die, sacrificing three lives to save the fates of thousands.

"Do you suppose we'll be crowned heroes or something of the sort?" Sam asked. "Do you suppose Rosie will ever hear what happened to me?" He started to cry once again, pulling out the carved little box and opening it. Frodo wrapped an arm around him, looking at the box in surprise.

"I never thought you'd actually ask her," He smiled.

A large boulder rolled down the side of the volcano, not too far from ours.

"I'm glad to be with both of you," Frodo admitted, "Here at the end of all things."

I let go of a cold tear, letting slide down my cheek.

"Miss Calathiel?" Sam asked, almost sending me to ask him to not to call me that. "Will you tell us a story? A story about the elves, anything really…"

I paused for a moment, forgetting almost all the tales of old that were told to me by my father. Only memories. "There once was a small elf child. She lived with her father in the most beautiful of places, more majestic than Lothlorien, and fairer than Rivendel. A beautiful river resided upon the outskirts on the grounds. When the moon was full it would fill up the entire lake with a beautiful white light…"

Lhanch En Galad translates into fire of light in Sindarin

"It is good to have an _end_to _journey_ toward; but it is the _journey_that matters, in the _end_". Ursula K. LeGuin

* * *

**Song in the Woods: Thank you very much for being such a loyal reader, I always look forward to your comments. Yes, poor things... I'm such a mean authoress to do such things to them, lol. But it makes an interesting story... thank you!  
**

**silentmidnightdeath: Again awesome pen-name. Same with me. My younger siblings seem to bring even more midgets over too. My cousins who visit are ALSO midgets so my house is crawling with them, lol. I find the same thing true with them. Maybe they just like us cause we aren't shorties. Thank you very much! **

**See everyone soon! Please comment! Let's make this last one count! **


	26. Epilogue

_**Calathiel**_

My eyes opened slowly, nearly blinded by the soft glow of white that filled the space I was in. I was on a feather mattress, my head against pillows of silk. My first thought was that I was dead, until I recognized the familiar and warm smiling faces beaming down upon me. An unfamiliar amount of emotion filled me, brimming up to my eyes. That was when I first registered everything. That was when I first cried like a human; like a child. Tears of remorse for that which was lost, tears for Gimli, tears of joy; all mingled together in a very un-elf like way.

* * *

_**A brief recount of events missed**_

_**Written by Frodo Baggins**_

_**Requested by Calathiel **__**Dúlin**_

How could I possibly sum up the events that transpired whilst we were gone? While we were off fighting the small— in comparison, of course—obstacles that lay before us and Mount Doom, wars and battles raged on. So much was lost, but I must keep telling myself that much more would've been killed if it wasn't for us. Still, things shall never be the same that they were.

I guess the beginning is the better place to start in most scenarios, so I believe there is where the recounting will begin. I'm quite positive this will take more than the ink that already runs thin in the inkwell…

From what I was told, Boromir, convinced by Faramir, was able to bring the people back to their senses as we fled Minas Tirith. Most of the families, women and children were lead to the tunnels that lead into Mount Mindolluin. Though I heard Faramir remarking that still many were lost. A good portion of the soldiers were brought back to order and began to fight back with catapults and other city defenses. The battle still looked as if it were to end ill.

The fellowship became divided even once we had left; Eowyn and the hobbits gone out of sight of the rest. Aragorn, Eomer and Legolas (since Boromir was off leading the Gondorians) went off in search of their companions; sure they were not to be dead, only separated. Though they were swept into the heated battle, quickly.

Meanwhile, Eowyn and Merry were trying to help an injured Pippin, who had taken a rock to the head. The Witch-king, strongest of the nine, tore through the buildings next to their alley, and began to attack. Eowyn slew the fell-beast by decapitating it to protect the hobbits. The creature went through its last moments of pain, as the Lord of the Nazgûl came forth. He swung his mace at Eowyn, to which she blocked with a rock she grabbed from the side of the wreckage. While she was not killed, it broke the hands which held it, sending the arms into a shock. Ready to finish her off, the Witch-king was stabbed in the back of his knee by Merry who "had had quite enough of being a small hobbit, always protected by the big folk". This blow sent Merry into a state of unconsciousness. While the Black Captain was wounded, Eowyn took up her sword, and despite her broken hands, delivered the final blow, sending her also out cold.

The death of the Witch-King was not enough to shake the Nazgûl, and the battle continued on, until the sudden return of Gandalf, who had become resurrected to be Gandalf the White. As he frightened away the horrid creatures, the Gondorian soldiers were able to finish off the orcs.

During this moment of peace, Pippin awoke to find his friend and the White Lady of Rohan seemingly dead. He found Faramir in a short amount of time, who brought both of them to the House of Healing. As the two returned to go in search of Aragorn and the others, they witnessed Saruman and Wormtongue slinking back to their hidden quarters. In attempts to kill the wizard, they followed him, about to perform a final spell to finish off Denathor II the Steward of Gondor. Alas, they were too late. In a valiant effort, the Wizard and his Worm were gone, and the Steward was dead.

After a day of recovery, a funeral was had in the vast city. While this was happening, a small amount of men from Osgiliath came, reporting the armies within Mordor to be recuperating, and planning an attack on the city in a week.

Aragorn, Eomer, Gandalf and others determined that they would need to march upon the Black Gates in order to allow us safe passage through the black land. Eomer volunteered to travel to Rohan to search for survivors, in hopes he could help the dwindling numbers of men able to fight. He and Eowyn (who was on the mend, and needed to be taken away from battle) set off soon, promising to return to assist them at the Black Gates.

After a small number of days to heal, the remaining soldiers of Gondor were off to challenge an undefeatable foe. The Rohirim, and the Eagles arrived just when the moment was dire, but it was not enough. This was when the Ring hit the fires of Mount Doom, sending Mordor to its destruction along with its orcs. All were despite themselves, save for those remaining of the fellowship, who witnessed the volcano of Mount Doom exploding.

In a very brief sum of the events following; (since we both know this part) fortunately for us Gandalf persuaded the Eagles to assist him in rescuing us. We were taken to Minas Tirith and healed, for the most part. Aragorn was crowned king, not so long after. And then, we went our separate ways.

* * *

After the events concerning Saruman, most presumed that all evil had rid of the land of Middle Earth. For the most part this was true, though Bree remained as it was, mostly. Still the rangers lingered there, the poor, and the criminals—but nothing that could be compared to the evil of Mordor. For a hobbit, it was not the ideal place to stay, but the one who was inside the Prancing Pony that mid day wasn't nearly as frightened as he was upon his first entry to the place.

In the light grasp of his nine fingered hand, was a small envelope containing the message of:

_I heard tell you are departing soon. Gondor was not too my liking even though Strider continually claims that my help in all the political things is of great help. I spent the remaining half of the year in Lothlorien, which I also found to be dull. Most of all the elves have left already. And the remaining is to go with you and your Uncle. I am traveling to Bree to meet you at the Prancing Pony. Please bring a cart, for I don't want to openly walk in to Hobbiton. Think of the stir-up that would arise! Bilbo sends you his best and requests that you bring his ring with you when you go to the Grey Havens. I didn't know what to say in response to this. Though you were right, I am waiting in Rivendel at this moment before I travel to Bree, your Uncle's stories are quite amazing! He seems to appreciate my own as well. Do try to spend the rest of your time well in the Shire. You shall regret it if you don't, for you shall never return to its lands. I look forward to seeing Merry, Pippin, and especially Sam again. _

No signature was left upon the bottom. Frodo assumed this was in case someone intercepted their letters, though no one was trying to kill them anymore. _Perhaps_, he mused, exchanging a kind greeting with Butterbur, _it became a habit. _

The jolly, red-cheeked bar tender led the hobbit the side of the room. Frodo's face lit up in an instance upon seeing the thin figure sitting at a two person table before him. The finely made cloak hid her face, but her unmistakable raven black hair fell out of her hood. Her elven dress peeked out a bit from a worn traveling coat, and a familiar dagger hung from a leather bet at her hip. Butterbur left quietly, leaving the hobbit the empty bench already laden with fruit, cheese, and a mug of ale on the empty seat, and a cup of tea where she sat. Still smiling, he sat down upon the bench to face the same weary emerald green eyes he had known for quite some time now.

* * *

**Author's Final Note: This seemingly never ending journey of our characters (This story was much longer than I ever expected it to be) was personally a learning experience for me. I'm sure there will be more LOTR stories in the future, don't worry, but I shall not make anymore OC's for awhile, until I can make sure they are positively NOT Mary-Sues. Calathiel, sorry my friend, but in the begining you turned a lot of people off because of your almost Mary-Sue-ness. I also learned not to kill Gimli. Yes, that was stupid. BUT I am proud to call this my first fic, and I hope you all enjoyed this. **

**Thank you to those who stuck with me for almost a year. Luna Elen, song in the woods, and many other constant reviewers: Thank you very, very much. I enjoyed this a lot. : )**

**_"The road goes ever on and on..." _And we shall meet again. And on that note, this epilogue, short as it is, was almost not going to happen. Yes, I was about to throw in a very depressing ending to this story. But then what fun would that be? You read all this and then they just die? But the alternate epilogue is still in existence and I will probably put it up as a one-shot story, separate from this. So it's not all over yet! Follow me as an author to find out when it releases if your interested! **

**By everyone! Thank you so much!_  
_**


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